Closer
by BrittanyZadro
Summary: Carson’s life is pretty average...until a chance encounter puts her in the path of the one and only Negan. Will she be able to resist him and his world? Negan X OC, AU.
1. chapter 1

_I_ _knew it was a dream. His voice in my ear, telling me to let go, to be who I really was, to let the monster be free. His arms around me, stroking me softly, coaxing me to bend to his will, to belong to him entirely. I didn't know this man. I had never seen him in my life. This was just a dream. But as his lips descended onto mine, I couldn't help but marvel at how real this felt, how real his touch felt. If this was just a dream…why not give in to my desire?_

I pulled my car swiftly into the spot farthest the entrance of the local liquor store. Although it was barely Tuesday, this would be my third stop this week to purchase yet another round of beers for my older brother, who denied he had a problem with alcohol. I knew I was enabling him, but as his only living family member and his younger sister, I felt it was my duty to make sure he had whatever he wanted.

As I pressed the off button on my car, I let my head fall back against the headrest and sighed. It had been a hell of a day at the office. Although my work was solitary, it had been one of those days where people asked me odd questions and expected me to fulfill requests that they were too lazy to do themselves. I was tired and on edge, both from my day and sitting in rush hour traffic. It was one of those days that I truly hated my decision to leave the life I had behind and pursue an education, accompanied with a monotonous forty hour a week job. I knew that physical exertion wasn't the main cause of my tiredness; rather, it was completely mental, the sort of exhaustion that came from living a mundane life after giving up an extraordinary one. In that moment, I mentally kicked myself for the negativity I was feeling. After everything I had been through and after being able to find some normalcy, albeit mundane, I was here. I was human.

Well, mostly anyway.

I sighed again and raised my head to look in my rearview mirror. Starring back at me was a woman who had been on this earth for thirty-two years, but looked no older than the age she had been when she turned at twenty-one. For a moment, I allowed myself to take in my appearance. My black hair fell past my shoulders, tousled and a bit of a mess from my long day. My blue eyes lacked their normal vibrancy, the light from the dim parking lot reflecting off of them, and I had a bit of mascara smeared under my eyes. My once perfectly glossed lips lacked any sort of shine now. I looked like I had one hell of a day.

Avoiding the inevitable, I finally got out of my car, grabbing a couple of bucks out of my wallet and my keys and made my way across the lot into the liquor store. I lightly scoffed at the fact that I was here so often, carding me was no longer a necessity. I walked through the doors, passing by two biker types, clad in leather, on the way to the refrigerator. I pulled out two beers and made my way to the register, nodding briefly at the same sales person I had been seeing nearly every day for the last two years as I paid. As I grabbed the beers of the counter and tucked them into my arm, I accidentally bumped into something, or more like someone—one of the biker guys. Without making eye contact, I muttered my apology and made a hasty exit, not bothering to look back.

I was nearly at my car when my keys slipped out of my hand and onto the pavement. I made sure the beers were tucked tightly in my arm, and I reached down to pick them up, but another hand reached out in front of me and grabbed them first. I looked up to see it was the same biker guy that I had bumped into. He was wearing a leather jacket and a flimsy button down and it looked like he had greasy hair. Although the parking lot was dimly lit, I could see that much. But what left me feeling a little unnerved was his smile. It wasn't friendly…it was just plain creepy. I gave him a small smile that didn't quite reach my eyes and stood up, held out my cupped palm, ready for my keys.

"Thank you," I said, my palm still open and waiting for my keys to be dropped into my hand. But he held onto them. Tightly.

"Anytime, missy," he said with a twang, raising himself up, standing a few inches taller than me.

"But I really don't think a girl as pretty as you should be out here by yourself."

My eyes rolled at his sexist statement. "Give me my keys," I said, attempting to sound more intimidating. But he just gave me a goofy smile and shrugged.

"Now why would I want to do that? You're gonna get me a hell of a reward."

I opened my mouth to speak, but shut it before any words came out. My grip on the beers loosened completely and they fell to the ground with a resounding thud, rolling away down the lot.

At the base of my neck, near my carotid artery, was a sharp blade. I turned my head enough to see that its wielder was the other biker guy.

"Now let's get something straight," said the first biker guy, moving closer to me. "If you make one noise, Chester here is going to shove that knife into that pretty fucking throat of yours. Got it?"

I nodded once at his statement, not wanting to test Chester behind me.

"Good," he sneered. "Now we're gonna get in that fancy car of yours and go for a drive."

For a moment, I thought about screaming for help. Attempting to run away from my attackers. As my eyes scanned the dimly lit parking lot, I knew that I wouldn't get that far, especially with two men behind me. I played out several different scenarios and potential escape routes in my head, but the fact of the matter was that I was outnumbered. Maybe I could get away from one guy…but not two. The sharp blade at the base of my throat convinced me not to make a move. For now.

I let my capturers lead me to my car and shove me into the backseat, while they piled into the front. The one who took my keys looked at my dash with confusion.

"How the fuck do you start this thing, missy?"

"Press the start button," I replied. The one who had held the knife to my neck, Chester, snickered and pointed to the button.

"Yeah Jay, don't you know how these fancy cars start?" Jay hit Chester in the arm and he winced.

Jay readjusted the mirror and met my eyes. "Damn girl, you are gonna get us one hell of a reward!" he repeated.

I wasn't sure if I was ready to ask what that meant just yet.


	2. Chapter 2

We had been driving for about half an hour, leaving civilization behind and made our way into the hills. By now, I had accepted the fact that something bad was going to happen to me and there was little I could do to stop it. I had seen various stories on TV that depicted situations like I was in now. I had just never imagined that I would end up apart of one.

After remaining silent for the duration of our ride, I decided to try and play my luck.

"I have money," I lied to them, knowing that all I had was several grand in tuition debt. "I can get you guys however much you want. You can have the car too." The space was silent as the two men glanced at one another briefly before laughing.

The one known as Chester turned to look at me, "Honey, we don't need your money or your fancy ass car," he said still snickering.

I felt defeated. I didn't know what else I could possibly offer to get out of my current predicament.

Out of all the things that were going through my mind, the only thing I could think about was my brother.

In that moment, I wasn't thinking about all the horrible things that could happen to me, but rather I was thinking about what would happen to him. He wasn't capable of taking care of himself. That's why everything I had done for the last few years was for him. To make him happy. To keep him safe. If I never came home, who would do that? I knew that without me, his life would end, much like mine might right now. As the car skidded to a stop on a dirt road, I made a decision.

I was going to fight them. Not for myself, for my brother. I needed him. And he needed me.

Chester and Jay exited the car. As Jay came to my door, I turned my body, ready to make my move. Before the door opened, I launched myself off the seat and at him with a force that I didn't know I had. I started by kneeing him in his pelvic area, causing him to groan loudly and for his legs to buckle. As he moved closer to the ground, I started attacking his face, attempting my best right hook and following through with scratching his face. I wasn't able to cause that much damage—before I could claw out his eyes, Chester grabbed me from behind. I writhed and bucked against him, trying to escape. I screamed out in pain as his blade made contact at the base of my neck, slicing me enough to get me to stop moving against him.

By now, Jay had regained most of his composure and was coming at me like a bat out of hell. As his fist made contact with my face, I felt a sharp pain as darkness overcame me.

I felt myself on the edge of consciousness, starting to come to after Jay's blow had knocked me out. The first sensation that hit me was the dull throbbing at the base of my neck where I had been cut and my cheek where I had been hit. Both wounds stung, but if my healing rate was like it used to be, they would be healed in no time. As I tried to move, I felt that my hands had been tied behind my back with what felt like a belt. I squirmed and the felt carpet below me helped me realize that I was in the truck of my car. Now fully conscious, I focused in on my surroundings and was able to hear my capturers having a conversation on the other side of the trunk.

"Man, that bitch put up a good fight. She really fucked you up," I realized this was Chester.

Jay scoffed. "I better get rewarded with some good alcohol and even better tail after that," he replied. "I know this bitch is rare, but I don't think she's worth the effort."

Rare? What the hell did that mean? They couldn't possibly know what I was—

"Are pure-blooded were-bitches that hard to find?" Chester asked.

Fuck. They knew.

"Hell yeah, they are," Jay replied. "There are hardly any broads like her left in the world. I can't wait to see the look on the boss' face when he sees her. But hey, maybe he won't even want her…maybe he'll let us fuck her for our hard work!" Chester happily agreed at the possibility.

I gulped as the reality of everything started to settle in. I was trapped. These guys, or whoever their boss was were going to hurt me. Take advantage of me. Probably kill me and leave my body in a ditch somewhere. I finally let my situation sink in as warm tears fell down my face. Their conversation ended as another vehicle approached and parked.

Still on my side, my capturers opened the trunk, pulling me out of the car and forcing me to my knees on the ground. I kept my head down, completely scared of what was coming next. The headlights of the car in front of me were the only light source.

Someone moved closer to my ear.

"It's time for you to meet the man," Jay said.


	3. Chapter 3

One car door opened and closed, followed by another. I heard footsteps coming towards me, but I didn't look up.

I knew something bad was coming for me. I just didn't have the stomach to look up and see what it was. Or who it was.

The next thing I knew, some black boots were in my line of sight, a few feet away from me. Still, I didn't look up to see who was wearing them.

In that moment, the silence was deafening. The person in front of me was the one that spoke.

"Where did you find her?" he asked. His voice was deep, with an accent I couldn't quite place.

"At a liquor store," Chester answered, sounding proud of himself.

"Look at me," the person in front of me commanded. Silent tears continued to fall and I shook my head, still refusing to meet his gaze. Just then, a large hand, covered by a leather glove, made contact with my chin. I was expecting him to be rough, to jerk my head up, but he pulled my face up gently, almost caressingly. He lifted my face so I was now looking up at him. Once I was, his hand dropped.

When my eyes met his, something happened.

I couldn't describe what I felt as just one thing. It couldn't be encompassed in just one emotion or feeling. It was emotional, physical, and oddly spiritual all at the same time. I entered into this state of hyperawareness where all my senses were on fire. The first thing that I noticed quite vividly was a scent that was made up of various things. I smelled leather, gunpowder, whiskey, spice and something else…it smelled like soap combined with something else that was so inherently male.

In that moment, I began to make sense of my physiology. My heartbeat had increased, along with my temperature. I think the most surprising thing was that I was aroused. Like sexually aroused. By no means was I unexperienced when it came to sex, but to feel completely turned on for no apparent reason, especially given my current situation, even made me blush. In my mind, something had clicked. I felt complete somehow, like the stars had aligned. Like everything that I had been through in my entire life had been leading up to this exact moment.

I could see every detail of him. I could see the creases around his eyes and other small details on his face that told me he was older, probably in his late forties. He had a salt and pepper beard that was neatly trimmed. I could see the dimples that formed as he gave me the most charming smile I had ever seen in my life. Even though the only source of light was from the headlights behind him, I could see his hazel eyes clearly, speckled with green. He had short black hair that was slicked back and specked with gray strands. He must have been over six feet tall, his muscular form subtle but noticeable under his clothing. He was dressed in dark gray pants, with a worn leather jacket, matching gloves, and a plain white tee that could be spotted under his dark red bandana. I had never been attracted to older men, but the one looking down at me now was changing my mind about my age preference. Everything about him oozed confidence, from his cocky grin to his stature, but it was more than that. It was his aura. And then it hit me—this man in front of me, he was a wolf like me. But he wasn't just any wolf…he was an alpha.

In the seconds that transpired since we made eye contact, he had bent down so he was now directly in front of me, eyes boring into mine. His eyes had a look of curiosity in them at first, but that curiosity was replaced by something else: desire.

As his eyes darkened, he spoke again, his voice low and his words oozing out of his mouth like honey.

"Mine," he purred.

At his statement, I attempted to break eye contact with him, feeling completely overwhelmed by the entire situation, but before I was able to focus on the ground, his gloved hand made contact with my face again, this time cupping my cheek in his hand and keeping it level with his face. Involuntarily, perhaps even instinctually, I leaned into his touch and watched him. He was taking in every detail, from my tousled hair and the mascara that had ran down my face, to the curve of my lips. From his position, the light was hitting me perfectly, all parts of me on display for him. His gaze stopped when he reached the spot near by cheekbone, where Jay had hit me, making me realize it was probably bruising. Without turning to my capturers, and the other man from the truck, he spoke.

"Who did this to her?" he asked in a steady voice, letting his fingers ghost across my face, especially where I was hit. His voice was low and laced with an emotion I couldn't place. His mouth tightened in a fine line and his eyes narrowed at the visible mark left behind. I realized what that emotion was almost instantaneously. Anger.

"I-I did," Jay said, sounding nervous. The man in front of me dropped his hand and turned around when Jay spoke.

"And the cut?" he asked, as his eyes went to Chester. I could have sworn that I heard him audibly gulp. Jay spoke then, coming to the duo's defense.

"She tried to escape," he said, almost pleadingly. "We had to make sure she couldn't get away."

I couldn't see the expression of the man in front of me, but he jerked his head to his passenger that was still near the truck. That man had a rather large moustache and reached into the truck, pulling out whatever the other had silently requested. My eyes widened as he handed the object to the other man. It was a wooden baseball bat, crudely wrapped in barbed wire. I had never been religious, but in that moment, I silently prayed that it wasn't meant to be used on me.

The man started to swing the bat around as he swaggered in the small area. There was something almost playful about his nature, but as I scanned the faces of the men around me, I knew something bad was about to happen.

I just hoped that it wasn't my demise.

After sauntering around for what felt like an eternity, he stopped in front of me, kneeling down and leaning on the bat.

He smiled at me before he spoke. "Listen doll, I am so fuckin' sorry for those dipshits. I want you to know that hurtin' women is not fucking cool with me. And shit, given who you are to me, given the fact that you're my goddamn _mate_ , I'm about to show these dipshits how absolutely not fucking cool it is."

I said nothing to his response, even more overwhelmed than I was before. Mate? Although I had been a wolf for over a decade, there was still so much about that world that I didn't know. Given his statement, I was positive that this man just laid his claim on me.

He continued to speak, gesturing towards the bat with his empty hand. "This here is Lucille. And she is a stickler for the rules. And one of my top rules, along with not raping women, is not hurtin' women. And these assholes," he gestured to Chester and Jay, "hurt you. So they're gonna be taught a lesson by Lucille."

Before I could respond, he moved from his position in front of me and swung the bat around, moving across the area to Chester, hitting him square in the jaw, sending blood flying and bones cracking. As the bat made contact with his face, he screamed in pain at the dislocation of his jaw. He fell to the ground, lying on his side, gurgling blood. The man with the bat moved closer to him before he continued—he began to deliver hard-hitting blows, not stopping until Chester's head was…well, not a head anymore.

I should have been sick to my stomach. I should have closed my eyes and looked away at the gruesome sight in front of me. But I didn't. I watched until there wasn't anything left of Chester, the rest of his body collapsed into the dirt and twitching. The man with the bat let out a satisfied sigh, swinging the remaining chunks of Chester's head and blood onto the ground.

"Man, Lucille was thirsty! She is a vampire bat!" he laughed at his own bad joke. He turned back around to look at me, his jacket now specked with blood and a wild look in his eyes. He seemed to be pleased with himself.

"Doll, I am so sorry! Where the fuck are my manners? I introduced you to Lucille, but you have no idea who the hell I am." He kneeled again so that he was directly in front of me, using the bloodied bat to lean on.

"I'm Negan," he said, holding out his gloved and bloody hand.


	4. Chapter 4

I looked down at his hand and cocked my eyebrow. He tilted his head at my silent response before realization struck him.

"Ah shit, they tied you up, didn't they?" he asked. "Dumb shits," he muttered. He didn't wait for me to respond before he moved behind me, undoing my bonds with one hand. When they were free, I grabbed my hands, rubbing my wrists from the loss of circulation.

"Now for a proper introduction," he grinned, kneeling back down in front of me, using his bat as a crutch. He wiped his bloody hand on his leg before holding it out to me again.

"My name is Negan," he repeated. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

A part of me, the sane part who just watched him beat someone's head in, wanted to ignore his response altogether. However, given what had just happened and the entire situation completely, I realized that sanity was going to have to be thrown out the window if I wanted to see my brother again.

"My name is Carson. Carson Gardner," I said, placing my hand in his, feeling the lukewarm blood on my fingers. Through the leather glove, I could feel his warmth radiating off of him. Despite my current situation, it felt comforting, safe even. What the hell was wrong with me?

He held onto my hand for what seemed like forever before speaking again. "Now that is an interesting name." He finally loosened his grip on my hand.

I shrugged. "So is Negan," I replied truthfully, my voice devoid of sarcasm. He grinned widely at my remark. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the way his dimples formed…it was doing things to me. Things that I didn't understand. Or maybe things that I didn't want to understand.

"You got me there, princess," he said. "Are you alright?"

I tilted my head in confusion at his question. To his men, his question might have sounded sarcastic. But there was something about his inflection that hit me. My instinct told me that it was sincere, that he was actually concerned for my wellbeing.

I nodded. "It's been a hell of a day," I said truthfully.

He smirked. "Don't worry your pretty little head, we'll get out of this shithole soon. But we're not done just yet. Lucille is still thirsty…and so am I."

He moved to stand up, but not before putting his hand out once again. I took it and allowed him to help me stand up. He looked oddly satisfied, maybe even impressed at the fact I had yet to pass out, both from the situation and the gore I had witnessed. He turned back to Jay, who looked absolutely petrified at what was going to happen next.

"You pissin' your pants yet?" Negan asked. Jay was visibly shaken at his partner's demise.

"Well, I bet you're gonna be real soon," he continued, moving closer to a very scared Jay.

Instead of backing up from the situation, I moved closer behind Negan, putting less than a foot's distance in between us. Negan's grip on the batt—Lucille—tightened and he raised her above his head, ready to break in Jay's skull. By now, Jay was crying, pleading for Negan to spare his life, saying he was sorry for hurting me. Negan wasn't having any of it, ready to dish out his warped form of justice. He swung Lucille down, but stopped before it could make contact with Jay.

"I got a better idea," Negan said, turning to me. He gripped Lucille lightly before turning her towards me.

"You do it," he told me, grinning.


	5. Chapter 5

I looked up at him, down to the bat, and repeated the motion several times in disbelief. He noticed my hesitation.

"You do it, doll. You end this miserable fuck's existence."

"I can't," I said in a small voice and looking away, down at my feet. I didn't look away because of fear. I looked away because I knew that I could do it. I could end this guy's life.

It wouldn't be the first time I killed someone that hurt me.

Somehow, I knew that Negan heard that in my voice, noticed that I had looked away because of my silent admission that I was capable of killing. For yet another time that night, he put his hand under my chin, making me look at him in the eyes. When our eyes met this time, I swore that I saw anger swirling around in his hazel orbs.

"Listen to me, Carson," he began. "I never want to see you looking at the fucking ground like that again. You hold that pretty head of yours high and don't fucking submit to anyone. Not even me. Is that understood?"

I looked up at him, meeting his gaze. I was in awe of Negan, in awe of the fact that he was able to notice this trait in me, something I did in my life so often not because I was submitting, but because it was how I mentally checked out of any situation. I looked away. I was passive because I hated conflict. It was stupid part of my character; I looked away from many things in my life and failed to speak up. I looked away from my brother's alcohol problem, not telling him what I really thought. I failed to speak up in my work, doing whatever I had to do to make people happy without getting my point across. Deep down, I knew I wasn't the stereotypical submissive female I showed to the world. But I didn't know how to convey that in a way that wouldn't make me look like a total and complete bitch. For a moment, I had tuned out of my current predicament, but when I came back to reality, Negan was staring at me like he was seeing my inner struggle. He was still holding out Lucille expectantly, handle towards me.

Without not really understanding why, I took it and walked over to Jay, who had been forced to his knees. Lucille was nearly half my height, but in my right hand, she felt good as I gripped her tightly.

"That's my girl," Negan said as I passed by him. I didn't question if he meant me or Lucille.

I adjusted the bat in my hands, holding it the way I had been taught in softball team tryouts in middle school. For a moment, my mind briefly flashed back to the childhood memory, remembering how much I wanted to be on the team. Back then, I was one hell of a catcher and an even better batter. Naturally, before tryouts were underway, I sprained my ankle after I tripped over a bat, ironically enough. I had missed out on softball for the rest of the year, my last chance of playing on the team until high school. Now, I allowed myself to chuckle at the sheer and twisted irony of the situation.

With Lucille firmly in my hands, I looked down at Jay, who was now the one with his eyes on the ground, shaking from his impending doom. Looking down at his shaking form caused something inside me to snap. My heart rate accelerated and the adrenaline began making its way through my body. I started to see red. My soon to be victim looked up at me, eyes imploring for me to spare him.

"Please don't kill me," he pleaded. Now in his present form, he was so different than the man who had taken my keys in the parking lot. The man who had hit me.

The man who intended on raping me.

Before he could say another word, I brought down Lucille on his head with a resounding thud. He collapsed to the ground, choking on his own blood. My blow was less impactful than Negan's and I was glad for that. I wanted this guy to hear what I had to say, completely livid at this point. Like Negan and Lucille, I had become bloodthirsty.

"I am so fucking tired of people thinking that they can take advantage of me!" I shouted as I began wailing on him with the bat, hitting his back, sides, and ending with his head. Parts of his body began to fly into the air, coating Lucille and me in blood. As I hit him, I continued with my hostile rant.

"You think you can kidnap me, take my car, hit me, and talk about raping me?! You're wrong! I did NOT go to fucking grad school to get a minimum wage corporate office job so assholes like you can fucking kidnap me and attack me! I AM SO SICK OF THIS SHIT!"

By now, I was swinging into the corpse of Jay, not caring that he was already dead. With one last swing into his side, I dropped the bat to the ground, panting and trying to catch my breath from the rigorous exercise that came with beating someone to death. It was silent as I turned towards Negan and the other man, who in the aftermath of my rage, I mentally named Pornstache.

Negan was looking at me, eyes wide, like I was the damn cure to world hunger. He took in my bloody state before finally speaking.

"Holy shit! That made me so fuckin' hard!" He exclaimed, his trademark smile wide on his face.

I couldn't help but chuckle at his statement as I passed out.


	6. Chapter 6

I felt like I was floating. That feeling that only came when I was completely dead to the world, asleep and warm in my bed. But I knew I was starting to wake up, my body growing uncomfortable at my pressing need to use the bathroom. I tried fighting it off, tried lulling myself back to sleep, but I couldn't. I rolled onto my back and stretched my legs out, before allowing my body to relax again. I can't believe that my alarm hasn't gone off yet, I thought as I pulled the silky sheet around me and sighed.

And then I opened my eyes.

I didn't have silk sheets.

With impeccable speed, I shot up in the bed I was in, seeing that it wasn't my bed or even my room. My eyes quickly scanned the bedroom I was in, which was far from average. It was posh, decorated modernly in dark hues with ornate decorations, the kind that should have been in a penthouse suite of a swanky hotel. The bed I was in was large, with four posters and a dark grey comforter and matching silk sheets. The sheets had fallen from my body and I saw that I was no longer wearing my own clothes, someone had changed me into a pair of sweatpants and a loose white T-shirt. I was grateful to feel the familiarity of my bra, along with my underwear, silently thanking god those hadn't been removed. I grabbed at the shirt, inhaling the musky scent. It smelled exactly like—

Negan.

When the realization hit than I was in Negan's room, in Negan's bed, I jumped to my feet, backing up against a dresser. Well the hell am I? Before I had time to investigate my surroundings further, the door opened. At first, I thought it was Negan, but it was actually that same moustache guy—Pornstache.

"Hey little lady. Boss wants you to change," he said, while holding out a neatly folded pile of clothes in his hands, with a pair of heels perched on top. Heels?! The site of the feminine shoe seriously irked me.

"And if I don't?" I said, defiance beginning to take its hold on me at the site of the shoes.

Pornstache shrugged and frowned, his moustache growing with the expression. "Hey, that's your choice. But if you were smart, you would do what the boss wanted you to do." He placed the clothes and shoes on the bed, and turned to leave, but not before alerting me that I had ten minutes to get ready.

After the door closed, I began to pace in the small area, weighing my options. I didn't know where I was. I racked my brain, remembering that wolves, or what was left of them, lived in a pack, so I must have been in Negan's pack house. Which meant there could have been multiple wolves on the other side of that door. I wanted to get out of here…but in one piece and somewhat unemotionally scarred for life. It seemed like until I was able to talk my way out of here or try and escape, I had to accept my current situation. As I walked to the bed and unfolded the clothing, realizing it was actually a black lace dress lacking serious modesty, I found myself remembering Negan's voice and words.

 _"You hold that pretty head of yours high and don't fucking submit to anyone. Not even me. Is that understood?"_ That's what he had said to me when I looked away. When I submitted.

As I remembered the fierceness in his hazel eyes, I began to scan the room. Right near the side of the bed, was a pair of socks and sneakers, clearly women's sneakers given their smaller size.

Everything started coming together.

This was a test. Some kind of warped fucking test to see if I would submit, just like Negan had advised me not to do. He wanted to see if I had taken his words to heart, if I remembered them. If I would wear what I was told to wear, despite its sleaziness, or if I would find another option. I knew what my choice was going to be. I pulled on the socks and sneakers, realizing they fit perfectly. They were definitely meant for me.

I walked back to the dresser, noticing now that there was a mirror perched on top. For the first time since before all this happened, I allowed myself to take in my appearance.

I had been cleaned up, but I didn't allow myself to think about who had done the cleaning. I wasn't ready to think of Negan touching me, cleaning off the blood that had caked my skin. It seemed too intimate. But if I really was his mate, I'm sure he wouldn't have let anyone else touch me. The blood from my emotional and homicidal outburst had been wiped away, along with the makeup I had on. My hair was devoid of any carnage and looked like it had been brushed out. I couldn't help but smile at the fact that Negan probably combed it himself, but then I mentally kicked myself at my reaction.

Sighing, I came to the conclusion that I looked refreshed in my natural state. But at the same time, I felt vulnerable, naked even. As I pondered for a moment longer, I realized that I didn't look bad sans makeup…I was oddly attractive. My blue eyes has regained their vibrancy, my lips full and the perfect shade of pink. Given my current situation, I can't believe I looked…well, good.

I didn't have anymore time to ogle at myself—Pornstache knocked on the door to ask if I was decent. I confirmed I was dressed and he opened the door expectantly, waiting for me to leave the room.

I had no fucking clue what I was walking into. I had no idea what Negan's plans were for me. Hell, I didn't even know if I made the right outfit choice. Although it was difficult, I put my doubt aside and allowed myself to focus on the now, to be present in the moment instead of tuning out.

I walked to Pornstache and let him lead the way out of the room. He began walking us down a hallway, and from what I could tell, it looked like we were in a factory of some kind. We made a right and he opened a door, leading to a staircase that we began to ascend. The only sound that could be heard, other than my pounding heart, was our steps on the ground. Finally, we reached the top, but instead of opening the door presumably to our location, he turned towards me.

"Boss wants this to be private," he said, confirming that it would just be me going forward.

I gave him a nod, not bothering to ask what this was, as he began to descend the stairs, waiting at the bottom of the flight to make sure I went in. I turned to the door in front of me and put a somewhat unsteady hand on the knob. I took a deep breath as I turned it and stepped forward, into the unknown.


	7. Chapter 7

**Please let me know what you think of this story so far!**

The first thing that I saw were stars.

Above me, were the constellations, swirling in beautiful patterns, the full moon illuminating the night sky. For a moment, I twirled slowly in a circle, taking it all in. I had always been enthralled with space, specifically because it was unknown. The number of galaxies, the planets that could sustain life…it was all so enchanting to me. And then I came back down to earth, taking in my surroundings. I looked to the sides of me, realizing I was on a roof, probably several stories from the ground. Immediately, my eyes went the only source of light—multiple candles arranged on a dining room table, which looked like it had been set with plates and silverware. The scent of food hit me not long after, making my mouth water and my stomach turn. But it wasn't long until my senses were claimed by another scent. Whiskey, gunpowder, wolf…

Negan.

He was standing a few feet away from the table, his eyes intent on mine, silently beckoning me to move closer to him. And I began to cross the roof, moving towards him like a moth to a flame.

My inner voice was screaming. Here I was, in some unknown location, walking towards what appeared to be a moonlit dinner with an alpha wolf. What the ever loving fuck was I doing? I took an unsteady breath, convincing myself that I needed to play the part if I wanted to get out of here.

Negan's eyes never left mine as I moved to him, crinkling in the corners from the large grin plastered on his face. He began to take me in, and I allowed myself to do the same. He was dressed in the same leather jacket ensemble from before, minus the scarf and gloves. In that moment, I realized that something about him took my breath away, something in my gut that told me I wouldn't get tired of looking at him.

Even now, on what appeared to be our first date, he still had Lucille gripped loosely in his right hand. I felt certain at the fact he wasn't going to use her on me, knowing she was more of a quirk for him than anything. For a moment, I couldn't help but wonder the backstory of his prized possession, wanting to ask him about her. But I made a mental note to ask him another time. There were more pressing matters at hand.

Like the fact that he claimed me as his mate.

Something surged inside of me when I was standing less than a foot away from him, something that made me want to close the distance between us. But I ignored it. For a moment, we stared each other down, my face neutral, his shit eating grin plastered on his, both waiting for the other to speak first. He raised his eyebrows at me, eyes twinkling, challenging me. Then, his eyes moved down to my outfit, his face not giving anything away. The way he was staring at me made me feel rather naked, so I crossed my arms around my chest, which made Negan's attention go back to my face.

"Good choice, doll," he finally said. "Good fucking choice. Although, I would have loved to see you in that little black lace number, but hey, maybe that's best saved for another time," he said, winking.

I couldn't help but find myself sighing in relief at his statement about my clothes. It made me feel oddly confident that I could maybe figure out this man in front of me. After mentally congratulating myself, I realized that he was looking at me, waiting for me to speak.

"Why did you bring me here?" I asked, my voice surprisingly steady.

He chuckled. "Straight down to business, huh doll? If you insist…but trust me, this conversation is gonna be a hell of a lot more fun over dinner and drinks. What do you say?" He asked.

"Sure," I said, trying my best to hide my reluctance. I was in the unknown with an alpha, but I knew that the only way I was going to get out of this was if I played along. Taking a deep breath, I walked past him and over to the table, choosing on of the chairs. Before I could pull it out, Negan beat me to it, and I lifted my eyebrows in surprise at his behavior.

"Thanks," I said, giving him a small smile.

"Don't mention it, princess," he said, while taking the seat on the opposite side of the table, leaning his bat on the table near him. In front of us were plates covered with a silver tin, a bottle of wine nestled in the middle of the table amongst the candles. Everything started coming together. The candles, the wine, the food that smelled amazing, the privacy of the rooftop.

Negan was trying to romance me. Why? And would I let him?

"So…" I said, deciding that I was going to start this conversation. He smirked at me.

"Soooo…" he said, drawing out the word. I couldn't help but smile.

"So why did you bring me here?" I asked once again, trying to sound serious.

He shook his head. "All in due time, baby girl. But first, let's eat!" He pulled his cover off of his plate, revealing his food. It looked like it was chicken, with a side of mashed potatoes and vegetables. He picked up his fork and began eating. Sighing quietly, I followed his lead, closing my eyes and moaning quietly at the taste of the food. It was completely delicious. A laugh brought me out of my haze and I opened my eyes to find Negan staring at me.

"Good, ain't it?" He asked. I nodded my head.

"You a wine drinker?" He continued.

I shrugged. "I'm not much of a drinker, but that's fine," I said truthfully. Years of being the designated driver and my brother's problem was the reason for my adversion to alcohol. I reached out to grab the bottle, but Negan's hand was there first, popping the cork and filling my glass halfway before doing the same to his. I allowed myself to take a sip. Yeah, definitely not a wine drinker, but perhaps being intoxicated would make this whole thing easier.

We continued eating in silence, Negan stealing glances at me, and me adverting my eyes every time he did so. He made me uncomfortable. I wasn't scared of him, no…I was nervous, but in the way that a girl was nervous around her crush during their first date. It was both unexpected and odd. I had never really been interested in boys until college, dating casually here and there, not really caring if nothing lasted. After that, I didn't bother dating; taking care of my brother and working full time took away all my energy. Sitting here in front of Negan, I couldn't help but compare him to the boys I had dated. They were completely inadequate compared to him. And Negan was far from being a college boy…no, he was one hundred percent man.

It terrified me…but somewhere deep down, hidden in the part of me that I didn't like to admit the existence of, it excited me too.

Finally, we had finished our food and drained our glasses. Noticing my empty glass, Negan gestures towards the bottle and I shook my head. He proceeded by pouring himself another glass.

"Alright Carson," he paused to take a sip of wine before continuing. "Now that we're done with our grub, let's get down to the fun stuff. But before we start, let's get two thing clear," he said, leaning forward, his eyes boring into mine.

"One: You're a hell of a girl, Carson. I'd expect a girl as goddam gorgeous as you to have screamed at the sight of…well, Chester and Jay's noggins outside of their heads. But you didn't. No, you're such a badass, you took Lucille, held her like a fuckin' pro, and bashed Jay's head in. Yeah, you fainted after, but hey, it was pretty rigorous work!"

He leaned forward, putting both elbows on the table, taking me in.

"And two: Well, you already know two. Because I already told you. You're my mate. Hell, I always thought that mates was some hocus pocus crap, but from the moment I saw you…I knew."

I gulped. "Knew what?" It barely came out a whisper.

He smiled, but it wasn't as cocky as usual. It was genuine, filled with an emotion that I couldn't decipher.

"That you're it. You are the only woman I'm ever going to want. And oh, do I want you, Carson. In every way fuckin' possible. I want you to be mine."

This was all too much. Sitting here in front of this man, everything that he was saying…it was unbelievable and completely insane. But was it unwarranted?

"So that's why I brought you here! To try and woo you, hearts and flowers and candles and shit. So tell me, Carson Gardner…would you do me the honor of becoming one of my wives?"


	8. Chapter 8

My mouth fell at his question. The proposal alone was enough to shock me but—

"Wives?" I asked, my voice coming out unusually high pitched. "As in more than one?"

Negan shrugged his shoulders. "Well, technically there's five. And I don't fuck em— well, at least not anymore— or I won't, seeing as I have you...hell, you get what I'm saying!"

And then I started to laugh, I mean really laugh, something I hadn't done years. As my eyes started tearing, I didn't care about the look Negan was giving me. The sheer ludicrousness of the situation...it was enough to crack me up. Multiple wives?! Asking me to be one of them? Who the hell did this guy think he was? As my laughter subsided and I wiped away the tears, I looked at Negan. He was looking at me, surprised at my outburst.

"Have something funny to share with the rest of the fuckin' class, doll?" He asked.

"Wait, you're serious? About the wives thing?"

"Why the hell wouldn't I be?"

"Well," I started, really thinking about the situation.

"It just seems completely unnecessary. If it's about sleeping with multiple women, why bother referring to them as wives, if the word doesn't have the same connotation as it would in the traditional sense? It's just so...well, complicated."

He shook his head. "There ain't nothing complicated about it, doll. When this place started, there were some girls on their own that needed protection from this crazy fucked up world we live in. So I offered that to them, they got protection, they don't have to do shit or work, they just have to—"

"Wait around for you to fuck them?" I sneered. He raised an eyebrow at my vulgarity, which was even surprising coming from him. In that moment, something was triggered in me, its essence flowing through my body and invading my mind. My wolf. She rarely made her presence known nowadays, but something about Negan being with another woman...

Mine. The word, the instinct flashed in my head. The instinct to claim. I closed my eyes, taking deep breaths. I was not letting that part of me take over, not now. Not ever.

I heard Negan sigh from across the table. "Shit, it's your wolf isn't it?" He asked, already picking up on her presence. "She wants what's hers." I heard his chair move, followed by slow and steady footsteps coming near me. "She wants this," he said, his voice husky. "Why don't you let her have it?"

I could smell him again, knowing we was just inches away from me. His scent was invading my senses, clouding my mind and my judgment. My wolf purred at his suggestion, wanted to act on it. To touch him, to feel him moving against me, inside of me...

I opened my eyes and allowed myself to speak.

"No." I said firmly.


	9. Chapter 9

The smile on his face, the one that conveyed his abundance of confidence, fell as soon as the word came out of my mouth. My wolf, barely present and kicking me for telling him no, could pick up on his growing anger. So could I. I was sure that this time, his anger was going to be directed at me. The air was silent and tense when he finally spoke.

"What did you say to me?" He asked, already knowing my answer. His voice was surprisingly steady. Maybe he didn't lash out because he was expecting me to change my mind. But I was decided.

I allowed myself to stand, to be as level with him as I possibly could despite our height difference. "I said no. I don't care who you are, but I refuse to just be just another notch in your already over marked belt."

I was proud of myself for speaking my mind, for not letting my wolf take over, no matter how persistent she was. It was a moment before he responded, that same cocky grin appearing on his face.

"Your call, sugar," he said, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, like I hadn't just rejected him. I was surprised by his reaction. He stepped closer, so he was towering over me.

"But let's get one thing straight: it's gonna happen. Maybe not tonight on this roof or tomorrow, but there's gonna be that day when you say "fuck it" and come find me. And it's not gonna be because I'm forcing you, no...it's gonna be because you want this. It's gonna be your damn decision. You, Carson Gardner...you're gonna be mine."

His words, seeming far-fetched, began to seep in. For one of the first times since meeting Negan, I was afraid. I wasn't afraid that he would hurt me, no. I was afraid that his words might be true. I gulped.

He took a step back. "Simon will take you back to your car so you can go home. And when you decide that you're fuckin' ready, come find me."

I guess I was dismissed, somewhat surprised he wasn't keeping me here. I started to walk back to the door I came from, but something in me spiked, causing me to turn around to look at him one last time. I took him in again, him not seeming to mind my gawking.

"H-how do I find you?" I stammered. I'm not sure if my curiosity got the best of me, or if my wolf was still trying to be heard.

He grinned. "Just listen to your wolf. She'll know where to find me."

Finally, my eyes tore away from Negan and I began the descent into my unknown future.


	10. Chapter 10

**Six weeks later**

 _I knew it was a dream. His voice in my ear, telling me to let go, to be who I really was, to let my wolf be free. His arms around me, stroking my stomach and trailing down teasingly to that spot where I needed him so desperately. He was killing me softly, coaxing me to bend to his will, to belong to him entirely. I knew this man, Negan. My mate. A chance encounter put him in my path. This was just a dream. But as his lips descended onto mine, I couldn't help but marvel at how real this felt, how real his touch felt. If this was just a dream…why not give in to my desire? Why not belong to Negan_?

The shrill of my alarm pulled me out of my dream. I turned it off, but laid in bed for another moment, staring blankly at the ceiling. I dreamt about him again. Hell, I had dreamt about him nearly every night since that night we met. Every time, it seemed to be more vivid, more pleasurable. I couldn't get him out of my mind.

Sighing, I got out of bed, giving my cats a scratch and some food before going to the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror, hardly recognizing myself. I looked exhausted. I knew the reason for it, the eyes and smile that replayed over in my mind. It had been a long six weeks.

I brushed my teeth, put on some light makeup, and brushed out my hair. As I went back to my room, the scent of eggs and bacon filled the space. My brother Cameron was awake.

That night, when I had come home nearly at midnight dressed in someone else's clothes, my brother had been so worried sick, he didn't mind the fact that I was beer-less. We hadn't talked about it since that night, but I know he noticed the change in my behavior.

I pulled on a pair skinny jeans and a graphic tee, not really having the energy to dress up after another dream filled night about Negan. I grabbed my bag and went to the kitchen, where my brother was happily frying his last few pieces of bacon. He turned when I entered the room.

"Morning, Carse," he said. "Bacon?"

I shook my head. "Just eggs." I had lost my abnormally large appetite since that night. My brother shrugged and put some eggs on a plate at the table. I sat and picked at my breakfast, looking at my older brother.

He was nearly six feet tall, long and lanky, with brown wavy hair and nearly the same blue eyes as me. But they weren't the same, because we weren't really related. I was adopted by his parents when I was five, never knowing my real family. After the accident, my adoptive brother and I had been moved to California, taken in by a bustling Mexican American household that taught us all we knew. Cameron and I were opposites; where I was reserved and thoughtful, he was outgoing and reeked of spontaneity. He was a musician, as was I in another life, and worked creating music in a studio. He has charming, charismatic, and a total ladies man. But he was more than that. My brother was my keeper, my best friend. He was all I had. That didn't change when he started drinking excessively at the death of his best friend. Or when he was diagnosed with bipolar disorder in the same year. It didn't change with his mood swings, that were often taken taken out on me, that made me develop an excessive sense of self loathing at my life choices. Or when his disorder was too much to handle and he had to stop working, leaving me to take care of the household expenses, him included. Because to me, he was still my brother. I loved him with all my heart. Still, he didn't know what I was. It was something I kept from him, thinking he was safer not knowing that his sister used to turn into a wolf. I would have done anything to keep him safe—

"So what's his name?" He asked, pulling me out of my trance. I'm sure I paled at his question.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lied.

He chuckled and leaned over the table, spatula still in hand. "Carson Ann Gardner, I've known you your whole life…I know everything about you. And I know that you love food and never deny yourself of the goodness in life that is bacon. You've been distracted and distant, ever since that night you came home looking like you had been thoroughly fucked."

"Cameron, Jesus Christ!" I exclaimed at his statement, on the many list of things I did not want to talk to my brother about.

He lifted his hands and spatula in defense. "Hey, I was just happy that you were getting some in like the first time— well ever. But seriously, who is he?"

I sighed, looking down at my uneaten eggs. I couldn't keep dodging this.

"He's just someone I met at work," deciding not to be completely honest.

He wiggled his eyebrows. "Is he your Great?"

I stood up. "Okay, it's actually time for me to go to work now," deciding I did in fact want to avoid this conversation altogether.

As I walked out the door, my brother yelled, "He must be your Great if you're this sensitive about it!"

I tried to focus on my work for the rest of the day, but my mind kept drifting back to Negan. He had called me his mate, and I couldn't help but wonder if there was a connection to Greats. I didn't know anything about werewolf mating, but I did know the bedtime story that Cameron's grandpa had told us before he passed away.

One summer, before the accident, we were staying with Grandpa Nate a few weeks before he passed away. That balmy summer night, he told us the story about Greats. According to him, every person has one great love of their life. They would have Goods, people who were okay but didn't quite measure up, Bads, people who were just horrible for you, and Greats. When you met your Great, you knew from the second you looked in their eyes that they were the one for you. You felt instantly drawn towards them, needing to be around them. My brother held onto that story for years, hell, he still does. It was something that I never thought had any truth to it…but after Negan, I'm not so sure anymore.

As I clocked out for the day, bidding an unenthusiastic farewell to my coworkers, I made a decision. When I got inside my car, I couldn't help but let out a chuckle. That smug bastard…he knew. He was right.

Fuck it, I thought. I'm going to find Negan.


	11. Chapter 11

A few hours and a brief explanation to my brother that I was going to see "that guy," I found myself parked near a local hiking trail. I'm not sure what brought me to that particular spot, maybe it was just my intuition. Maybe it was my wolf.

That night, Negan had said that she would know how to find him. But tapping into her, that meant I would have to relinquish some of the self control I had, and I wasn't sure if I was ready to do that.

Frankly, I was scared. When I used to turn regularly, I was someone else. Someone with an excessive amount of energy and lust for life that has since been dulled, dwindling down to nearly nothing. The wolf in me, she made me wild, rebellious…I wasn't sure if I could go back to how I used to be. When I made the decision to stop turning, all that the wolf made me had fizzled away, leaving me, a self-loathing introvert with crippling anxiety and a caretaker complex.

As I began to walk down the trail, I couldn't help but cringe at the person I had become. I hated it. I hated me. I longed for the Carson who simply didn't give a fuck, who didn't have to turn to antidepressants and anxiety medication to feel a semblance of normalcy. The one who performed live music and dabbled in every form of art, simply because she loved it, not bothering to worry about company bonuses or student loans. The one who lived fiercely, loved fiercely. The one who embraced herself.

The one who embraced her wolf.

After walking for a couple of minutes, I realized that I wasn't going to be able to do this alone. I would need help. I needed my wolf.

I stopped, taking a deep breath and closing my eyes. I started focusing on my breathing, the solid beating of my heart. I then began to focus on my surroundings. The sound of crickets that filled the woods, the way the warm summer air felt on my skin. For a few minutes, I allowed immersed myself in my surroundings, becoming one with the night.

And then I felt it. It started off as a hum, vibrating through every fiber of my being. I became aware of another presence within me, one that had been there all along, locked away in a dreamless sleep until that night I met Negan. I allowed myself to tap into it without completely giving up control to my body, only allowing the wolf to see through my eyes. As she woke, I shuddered, feeling chills going down my spine. She was here.

 _My mate_ , she thought. Clearly, she had a one track mind, but I wasn't going to object. I let her lead the way. Together, we went deeper into the woods, weaving in and out of trees, in search of Negan. After a few minutes, we arrived at a clearing. I looked around and sighed in frustration. There wasn't anything here. He wasn't here.

Still, my wolf was triumphant, as if he was here with us. She brought me here, now I would just have to wait, hoping that uncaging my inner beast wasn't for nothing. I closed my eyes and focused the same way I had before, allowing my conscious, everything that made me who I was, take over. I thought of my brother. I thought of my pets, my home, my job. The existence that I was unsatisfied with. And I felt her annoyance at being pushed back into submission. I felt her get lost in the brief freedom she had, relishing in it and the primal thoughts directed towards Negan. And then she was silent, once again. My eyes remained closed, my mind getting reacquainted with being myself again. A sudden sound, rustling in the bushes behind me made me open my eyes.

I turned around and gasped at the site before me.

It was a wolf…but I knew who it really was. He was larger than your average werewolf, but that made sense, seeing he was the alpha. He was long and muscular even in this form. In the bright light of the full moon, I could clearly see his dark coat streaked with silver. I could also see his hazel eyes, the ones that had been haunting me for weeks. The sight of him as a wolf was almost more intimidating than his human form, although I knew he wouldn't hurt me, no matter what form he took. According to him, I was his mate, after all.

"Negan," I said, my voice coming out more like a question. A part of me couldn't believe that I had made it here, that I found him.

He began to move closer to me, closing the distance between us. For a second, I was scared that he would turn back and I would have to face him human…and naked. But he didn't.

He looked up at me and gave me a familiar shit eating grin, which was unmistakable, even as a wolf. I didn't have to hear him speak to know what he was thinking.

 _I told you so_. And then he let out a booming bark that echoed throughout the woods, laughing at me.


	12. Chapter 12

I rolled my eyes at him. "Yeah, you can gloat all you want," I said, knowing that he would once he turned back into his human form. Which reminded me—

"Don't turn," I commanded. "I'm not ready for that yet."

He gave a very wolffish and Negan like shrug and sat down in front of me, waiting for me to speak. And I stood there dumbfounded, feeling nearly incapable of forming any coherent thought. I hadn't planned this. I came here tonight, knowing that I wanted to find him. But now that he was in front of me, like this no less, I didn't know what to say. I hadn't really given much thought to how I felt about him. I couldn't deny my attraction to him, but I didn't know how to act on it. Feeling so drawn to someone was completely foreign to me. My wolf started to wake up from her slumber, knowing in that moment what I needed. She gave me a burst of confidence, that was enough for me to continue.

I found myself moving closer to him, sitting down and crossing my legs, leaving a familiar distance between us. Although he was still looming over me, I felt comfortable enough to say what was on my mind. I took a deep breath, looking up into his eyes and started to speak.

"I don't know why I'm here. I don't know why after six weeks, I decided to come and find you. Shit, I don't even know what, if anything, I want to happen now. I don't understand what I'm feeling. I just…" I paused, trying to find the right words. "I needed to be near you," I concluded. And it was true. After going without him for so long, I realized how much I had missed his presence.

Maybe I even craved it.

He hadn't moved an inch since I started speaking. Even now, he remained stoic and upright, as if he was contemplating what I said. In a swift movement, he moved closer to me, now standing directly in front of me. I didn't move away, deciding that if I really wanted to figure out what this was, I would have to fully commit myself, letting it happen. He was so close I could smell him…he smelled like nature, like dirt and trees. But somehow, I could still smell his characteristic scent that had driven my senses wild when we first met. He stood in front of me, unmoving, and if I wouldn't have already known he wouldn't hurt me, I would have thought otherwise. He moved his head closer to me, his snout now just a few inches from the base of my neck.

And then I felt an incredibly hot tongue lap at my neck, causing me to squeal. He fucking licked me!

Scooting back, I glared at him, although I could see the amusement in his eyes. "Real mature, Negan," I scolded him. But the look on his face, even as a wolf, was priceless. The next thing I knew, I found myself laughing, a real and genuine laugh. He grinned at me, looking completely satisfied with the hot trail of saliva down my neck. When my laughter ceased, I spoke again.

"No tongue," I warned, wiping away the saliva and rubbing it on my jeans. Negan was completely beside himself. Even as a wolf, he somehow maintained his lighthearted nature.

I sighed and looked away, letting my gaze go up to the stars that had fascinated me for years. As I got lost in the patterns of them, I started getting lost in my own mind.

What did this mean? Why am I feeling this way? Is it the mating bond that's pulling me to him? Is it the childhood story of Greats that is manifesting itself in front of my eyes? I closed my eyes, the feeling of the air on my face allowed me to focus on something other than the primal sensation of Negan coursing through my veins.

But he was so much more than that, more than a sensation. He had been nearly my every thought for the last few weeks, that overnight dream that replayed in my head when I woke. Even before, on that night that we met, the night he asked me to be one of his wives…the notion was ridiculous, however, I couldn't deny that I felt something when I was with him. But I wasn't sure what it was just yet.

I made my decision. For the last six weeks, I had been in denial that I felt anything for him. I had been trying to run from my every thought of him. Sitting here now, I realized that I wasn't scared of him—I was scared of myself. Of letting myself go. Of letting myself be…more. Somewhere along the way, I had convinced myself that I wasn't worthy of a real life. But since Negan…I had started to doubt everything that I believed as truth. And now I realized it was never truth, it was always a false belief that had become ingrained in my identity. I knew deep down that I was ready to let it go. To kill the notion that I didn't deserve to live.

I don't know the exact moment that I found myself laying on the ground, my eyes growing heavy and my body tired from the hike I took to find him. And I don't know exactly hen I found a warm presence laying down next to me. I just knew that for once in my life, things felt like they were coming together. Like I was finally on the path that would take me to where I needed to be. And where I wanted to be.


	13. Chapter 13

The bright sunlight shining through my eyelids is what brought me to consciousness. But I didn't open my eyes. Not yet. I was extremely comfortable and I snuggled into the source of the comfort and warmth. In response I felt something curl around my middle, bringing me closer. I tried to adjust, growing uncomfortable at the intrusion poking itself into my lower back. Briefly, my mind drifted back to the events of the previous night, but that's all it took for me to remember where I was…and who I was with. Negan. And from the feel of it, he wasn't in his wolf form anymore. My eyes snapped open.

Using all my strength, I wrenched myself away from him, getting to my feet with impressive speed. As soon a as I turned to look at him, I realized that I wished I hadn't. He was laying down, propped up on his elbows, his eyes sparkling with delight, probably because of his current state of dress…or undress. Negan was stark naked and sporting the biggest hard on I had ever seen. I blushed furiously while my wolf rejoiced, eager for a taste of him. She wanted to caress the tattoos scattered across his body with her tongue and— I forced myself to turn away from him. He gave a low laugh, clearly enjoying my embarrassment.

"Good fuckin' morning, Carson," he said, his voice still laced with sleep, hair tousled.

I ignored him. "Can you please put some clothes on?" I asked, growing more uncomfortable at the thought of him naked behind me. Naturally, my wolf was getting aroused at the notion.

"You weren't complaining last night," he said under his breath. I didn't have to look at him to know that his characteristic smug grin was plastered on his face. A few seconds later, I heard rustling behind me followed by the sound of a zipper.

"Alright, sweetheart, I'm decent," he said mockingly. Hesitantly, I turned around to face him. He was hardly decent, wearing nothing but a pair of grey pants that hung low on his hips. Much to my surprise, I took him in without blushing, eyes trailing down his form. He was built perfectly, long but muscular in all the right places. Dark hair was scattered across his chest over a tattoo, trailing down to--

"You done objectifying me yet?" He said. My eyes snapped up to his face, seeing the humor dancing around in his eyes. He was enjoying this, making me squirm. I decided I wasn't going to let him.

"You done showing off?" I asked, referring to his body.

He scoffed lightheartedly. "For you, doll? Never."

I didn't respond, letting myself bask in the silence and continued to stare at him. The silence didn't last long, of course.

"Why did you come here?" He asked.

I shook my head. "I told you last night," I replied.

He shook his head back. "No. You gave me some half ass answer as to why you came. I want the damn truth." The fierceness in his voice grew more prominent after every word.

I broke eye contact with him, looking down at the ground, not sure if I was ready to answer something I didn't even know. I heard him move closer to me, and soon enough I was looking down at his bare feet. I didn't flinch when he reached out, cupping the side of my cheek in his warm hand, bringing my face up to look at him.

"And what did I say about looking away?" He asked, his voice low.

Briefly, my mind drifted to my thoughts from last night. How I longed to be the person that I was. And something clicked. That part of me never died, it was just hidden. Yes, it was fueled by my wolf, but it was me, the true me. This person that I was presenting to Negan right now? It wasn't me. The part of me that was afraid to make decisions, too scared to speak up, that was the part of me that needed to crawl back into a crevice in the back of my mind.

Deciding who I wanted to be, I looked into his eyes, blue connecting with hazel. And I spoke.

"You hold that pretty head of yours high and don't fucking submit to anyone. Not even me," I quoted his words directly back at him. And for a moment, I saw surprise flash across his face and his hand dropped from my face. He gave a nod.

"Why did you come here?" he asked again. This time, I decided on telling him the truth.

"I don't know. And before you criticize me for saying that, I really don't fucking know." I took a step back from him, giving myself some space from his looming frame, but I didn't break eye contact. "All I know is that for the last six weeks, I haven't been able to get you out of my head. I don't understand it, I just knew that I couldn't go any longer without seeing you." I huffed. His mouth turned upwards into a smile, his dimples forming as he did so.

"Why? Why couldn't you go longer without seeing me?"

God, he was infuriating.

"What the hell do you want me to say, Negan? That I'm attracted to you? That the way you look at me makes me feel things that I'd rather not talk about right now? That you make me feel something I don't understand? What exactly do you want to hear?" As the words tumbled out of my mouth, I realized that I was getting angry trying to decipher what he wanted from me.

"Carson, I want the goddamn truth!" he said, voice booming and echoing throughout the woods. Again, he moved closer to me, looming over my small frame. "I want you to acknowledge that everything you're feeling is because you're fuckin' mine! You belong to me. And the sooner you accept that, the hell of a lot happier we're both gonna be."

"No!" I yelled, my voice fierce. "That's not how it works. You don't just get to lay your claim on me and expect me to accept it, no questions asked. What, do you think because of some freaky wolf bond that may or may not exist, that my legs are just going to magically open for you? It does not work that way!"

Now, his eyes were smoldering, anger swirling around in his orbs. He moved so fast that I didn't even register what he was doing as he threw me over his shoulder with ease. I yelped in shock.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I'm doing exactly what I should have fuckin' done that night on the roof! You're coming with me!"


	14. Chapter 14

As he began to walk, my hands balled up in fists, hitting his back to no avail. He ignored my protests and held me tightly so I couldn't escape. Red clouded my vision and any coherent thought in my head disintegrated. I was livid. And that's when I lost it. The control I had held onto for years, scared of what would happen if I let it loose? It was gone. That submissive part of me was gone. And in its place was a woman who saw the world through a new set of eyes. And she was fucking pissed.

With inhuman strength, she brought her knees to Negan's side, hitting him in the ribs hard enough for him to loosen his grip on her. The blow also caused him to stumble on his feet, losing his balance. She took advantage of that, escaping from the confines of his arms while simultaneously grabbing ahold of his wrists. Although there was a significant height difference between the two, she lunged at him, bringing him to the ground with a resounding thud and a groan. She straddled him, pinned his arms to his sides, attempting to prevent his retaliation. But he didn't retaliate. He didn't even move. He laughed.

"Oh, now we're getting somewhere," he said approvingly. "By the way, I'm fifty percent more into you now."

I began to feel more connected with myself again, no longer seeing red, but seeing things for what they were. I scoffed at him.

"And where's that, Negan?"

"You right now? That move you just pulled? That was a goddamn masterpiece. It was primal. It was fuckin' hot! But you know what made it so damn perfect? It was you, the real you. Not the submissive little girl you were being earlier. No, it was full on, one hundred fuckin' percent you. That's what I wanted to see!"

He shifted underneath me and for a second, I felt just how much he liked it. But then I rolled off of him and stood up, not because of my embarrassment, but my pride. If he was serious about this, he was going to have to work for it. I stared down at him still laying there, his hands now behind his head, looking incredibly satisfied…

"You planned that, didn't you? The whole caveman "you're my woman" shit?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

He stared up at the trees, grinning. "Of course I fucking did. I did what was necessary. What you needed. Hell woman, the way you slammed me to the ground like that? I'm gonna be hard for a week thinking about how your—"

"Stop!"

"Your call. But like I said, I did what was necessary. Even at the expense of me getting my ass handed to me. It fuckin' worked," he paused, looking up at me. "How did that make you feel?"

I allowed myself to process my feelings, my actions. "It made me feel…strong. Powerful, maybe." He got up from the ground, dusting himself off as he closed the distance between us.

"And you are. You have so much fuckin' power in you, Carson. So much heat and raw power. And I want to harness the shit out of that!"

"To what end?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Think about it. All powerful alpha wolf with an equally if not more powerful alpha female by his side? It's the new world order. No one could fucking touch us."

I shook my head. "We're more than just cogs on the wheel, Negan."

"Then what are we, sweetheart?" He asked. I thought for a moment before coming up with a response I thought Negan would like.

"If it's the new world order, you and I, we aren't cogs on the wheel. We are the wheel." My response earned me possibly the most genuine smile from Negan that I had ever seen can along with a booming laugh.

"Smart fuckin' girl," he said. "Now you're talkin'."

I found myself smiling back at him. His agenda…something about it struck a cord in me. And I knew almost instantly what that cord was. It was my wolf. She knew what she was capable of. Submission wasn't her forte. But leading…

Negan whistled. "Shit doll, I could get used to this. Being your big spoon, you fuckin' man handling me, and getting in on the new world order all in one morning? Great way to start a Friday."

The last words out of his mouth brought me out of my thoughts. It was Friday?

"Shit!" I said and began walking briskly in the direction I had come from the previous night. But I was no match for Negan's long strides—he was in front of me before I knew it.

"And where do you think you're going?" he asked. There was no anger in his voice, just a twinge of humor.

"I have to go to work," I said, trying to move past him. But he didn't budge.

"Oh, you got to be fucking joking!"

I shook my head. "Nope! You gotta get out of my way." I stepped to the side and he mirrored me.

"Seriously, Negan? Do you want me to put you on your ass again?" I asked, seriously contemplating the idea.

He shrugged. "If you end up straddling me again, then fuck—"

"Ugh, forget I asked! But seriously, I have to go. I'll…come back," I promised. And it wasn't a lie…I would come back to him. Even as the words left my mouth, I knew they were true.

"Not fucking likely," he responded, still doubting me.

"Damn it, Negan, I promise I'll come back!" I tried again, my voice sincere.

"And if you don't?" He asked.

I thought for a moment. "Then…I give you my permission to come find me."

He chuckled and gave me one of his smiles.

"Oh believe me baby, I fuckin' will."


	15. Chapter 15

A couple of hours later, I was sitting at my desk, my interaction with Negan playing on a constant loop in my head. Ultimately, he had let me go without protest, trusting that I would come back to him…and vowing to find me if I didn't show later tonight. But I would come back to him. After the last couple of weeks, I was tired of denying myself what I wanted, of telling myself that I didn't deserve an extraordinary life. I deserved something more than the mundane existence I had been living the last few years. I deserved a real life, a full life. And maybe, if things worked out, Negan could be a part of that life.

As I considered a future with him, my phone began to vibrate in my pocket. Pulling it out, I saw it was a number I didn't recognize, but decided to answer it anyway.

"Hello?"

Brief static followed, then a female voice I didn't know. "Hello, is this Carson Gardner?"

Thinking it was just some creditor, I replied cordially, but also ready to hang up the phone. "Yes, it is. May I ask who's calling?"

"I'm an ER nurse at the regional hospital. Your brother Cameron was in a car accident and we need you to come down immediately."

Hearing my brother's name and the words "car accident" in the same sentence nearly caused my world to come crashing down. Almost immediately, I felt tears welling up in my eyes, ready to fall at any second, at the confirmation that he was—

"Is— is he alive?" I stuttered. The words felt like poison in my mouth.

"Oh yes, of course he is!" the nurse said. "He has a broken arm and some bumps and bruises, along with a possible concussion, so we would like to keep him a few hours for observation. He does have an IV, just because he was a tad dehydrated when he came in. Other than that, he should be fine."

Relief washed over me, now that I knew he was going to be okay. I ended my call and explained to my manager that there had been a family emergency and I needed to leave. As I walked out the building and to my car, the presence of my wolf caused me to come to screeching halt in the middle of the parking lot.

Negan, she thought, it coming out like a whine, longing for him. You promised, she directed at me.

I shook my head and continued walking to my car. I had promised Negan that I would come back to him tonight, but right now, my brother needed me. I just hoped that Negan would understand.

…

About an hour later, I walked into one of the rooms in the ER to find my brother laying in a bed, twirling his IV tube, while shamelessly flirting with a nurse. The site alone was funny, but it was a relief as well. He was going to be okay and was already exhibiting his normal behavior. Cameron hadn't noticed my presence yet, so I leaned on the door frame, taking him in. His left arm was in a cast in a sling. I could see a few scratches on the left side of his face, but other than that, he was relatively unharmed. What if it had been a lot worse…if something would have happened to him…

The nurse's laugh brought me out of my "what if" thinking. I focused myself in the present, listening to their conversation.

"You know, I'm in a rock band," he drawled. I snickered at his cheesy pick up line, and immediately, he looked at me. He glared at me, his eyes silently saying "don't ruin this for me" but as soon as he looked away, so did the nurse. She excused herself and left the room.

Cameron sighed in frustration. "Seriously Carse? I was this close to getting her number!" He put his thumb and pointer finger closely together to illustrate.

I scoffed. "Seriously Cam? You were just in a car accident and all you can think about is getting laid?"

He didn't respond, but his eye roll was evidence enough that he was annoyed. I brushed it off and crossed my way to him, sitting on the edge of his bed. He was still fiddling with his IV tube, so I took his hand in both of mine.

"I'm…I'm glad you're okay Cam," I said, my voice filling with emotion. He caught onto my tone almost immediately.

"Hey, none of that "what if you would have died" shit. I'm okay. Sore as hell, but I'm okay." He squeezed my hand reassuringly. I nodded my head but remained silent. One thing about my brother was that he didn't like to dwell on the bad things that happened. So I restrained myself from saying anything that he would consider negative. I thought I'd try and lighten the mood.

"By the way, you had no chance in hell with that nurse. And I can't believe that nearly thirteen years later, you're still using the musician line."

He scoffed playfully at me. "I totally had a chance with her! And my method of flirting with a beautiful woman is none of your concern. Speaking of romance…" he trailed off, meeting my eyes. "How's your Great?"

It was my turn to roll my eyes and I let go of his hand, placing both of mine in my lap. I thought about changing the subject, but in all honesty, I needed a space to talk through my feelings about Negan.

"Tell me about him," my brother continued, after a moment of silence. "What's his name?"

I sighed, knowing that once I answered, there was no going back. "Negan. His name's Negan."

He furrowed his brow for a minute, contemplating something in his head. "So…what would be your ship name?" He asked, completely serious.

I couldn't help but laugh and after a moment, Cameron joined me. He only laughed for a few seconds before stopping to groan.

"Yeah, sore as hell. Don't make me laugh. But tell me about this guy!"

"He's…" I paused, trying to discover the right words that would capture Negan. Simple adjectives didn't seem to measure up.

"Negan is…a lot of things. He's charismatic and charming. But he's also incredibly difficult, sees things very black and white, like his way is the only right way. He can be a bit of an asshole, but there's something about him…there's something in him that's pulling me to him," I concluded, thinking I summed up Negan's complexity rather well, leaving out specific details about his supernatural nature.

Cameron nodded. "And how do you feel about him, like really feel about him?"

I thought for a moment. "I don't know. But I do know that I'm scared."

"Scared of him?"

"No," I answered. "I'm scared because I've never felt anything like this before. Hell, I didn't know it was even possible for me to feel like this. I'm scared because I don't know what to do. The thought of letting him in terrifies me. Because if I let him in, show him the real me…I'm just scared of losing him," I admitted.

And I was. Trying to make sense of my feelings about Negan revealed to me that I was scared of losing him. Even more so, I was absolutely terrified of the fact that I was scared to lose him, because it meant that I felt something for him. My wolf's urges were primal, purely a physical need for him—but my feelings were my own to decipher and were on a deeper level.

Cameron tilted his head. "Why would you lose him?"

"I…don't know," I replied lamely. But I knew what I really thought, and so did my brother. He knew me too well.

"Carson, if there is one thing you've always been, it's insecure. What you just said, it's because you're scared that you won't be enough for him. That's the only reason why you think you would lose him. But let me tell you a little secret. Us guys? We don't ever think that a girl isn't good enough for us. Hell, if anything, we're thinking that we're the ones who don't deserve her. Have you ever considered that?"

I shrugged. "No, but…"

He shook his head before I could continue. "No buts. It's true, at least from my experience. And here is what's going to happen when you let him in: he's going to find out how freaking amazing you are. He's going to fall head over freaking heals for you."

I smirked at the thought of Negan feeling that strongly for me. Maybe it was possible.

Cameron yawned and groaned in discomfort simultaneously. I figured that after what happened, he needed a break.

"Hey, I'm going to go and see what horrible food they have in the cafeteria. Do you want anything?"

"Depends. Do you think they have any IPAs?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes. "Get some rest, Cam." I stood up from his bed to leave, but not before leaning over him and kissing his cheek.

"I'm glad you're okay," I said once again. He looked up at me and gave me a lopsided grin before closing his eyes and dozing off.

 **A/N: More of Carson's backstory in the next chapter! Please let me know what you think of this series so far :)**


	16. Chapter 16

I made my way out of the room and down the hallway leading to the cafeteria. Almost immediately, I was assaulted with the various scents of the hospital. Something about the chemicals in the air made me think of my own time in the hospital.

Once I reached the cafeteria, I found an empty table in the corner that I nestled into. The smells, the people, everything about being here made me lose my appetite. It triggered my childhood memories, the accident…the death of my parents.

They weren't really my parents though. I had been adopted when I was five, having no memory of my early years or of my biological parents. Thinking about it now, I could still picture Cameron's mother and father greeting me for the first time, her gentle voice and smile and his large blue eyes and tall frame. I still remembered how they took me home to their son, telling him that I was going to be his little sister. I remembered a summer spent by the lake, laying in the grass and connecting the stars with Cameron. I remembered meeting my adoptive grandfather and how I had cried when he passed away shortly after. I remembered what it was like to have a family that vowed to keep me safe. But they couldn't.

According to the local newspaper article, the car accident had been merely that—an accident. It said that the couple had been traveling with their daughter when their car skidded to avoid something in the road. They had concluded at the time that it was a large animal, maybe a deer, which made sense since we lived in Washington. People hit deers all the time is what the authorities said. They never realized how wrong they were. It was something that I wouldn't learn the truth about until nearly fifteen years later.

I remembered flashes of the accident, the impact of the car hitting something, and complete and total blackness after that. From what I was told later on, it had been a miracle that I survived. Although I was alive, it didn't come without a cost. There had been some serious internal damage, so much so that the doctors were convinced that later in life, I wouldn't be able to conceive a child. At the time, I couldn't even comprehend how a kid was made, let alone be upset that I would never get a chance to have one. Even now, I had never pictured myself as a mother, never thought it would be possible. It was something that I never dwelled on.

I remembered waking up in the hospital bed with various tubes and needles piercing my skin. I remembered the doctors being concerned about a abnormality in my blood. They ran every test they could, but they were never able to figure it out, attributing it to a rare and unknown blood disease. Of course, they never would have assumed that my biology was different, mainly because I wasn't human. They never would have known that lycanthropy was a blood borne disease.

When I left the hospital, Cameron and I were taken in by a family friend who lived in California. We moved into a small one story house in an older neighborhood with our parents' older friend, who we called our grandma. From an early age, we were immersed in the culture of a Mexican American household, learning about history and cuisine, but were never really able to grasp Spanish, other than a few words and phrases. Despite our parents' accident, we were happy, mainly because we had each other. Our grandma passed away ten years after we moved in with her, leaving us the home we had grown up in. And that's where we stayed.

After her death, it became clear to Cameron and I that we were on our own. It didn't matter to me that he wasn't related to me by blood, because he was my brother in every sense of the word. We did everything together. We started a band together, in which Cameron taught me to play the guitar and piano. We toured together for a few years, me dropping out of high school to go with my brother. And we did surprisingly well, slowly breaking into the mainstream alternative music scene. Until the band broke up, like most bands do. We took a break when I was 21. And shortly after that, I became something other than a musician, something more supernatural. Cameron didn't know, not until three years later when he found out completely by accident, but he stuck with me, accepted me. And when a ghost from my childhood made itself known a few years later, he was still there with me, in my darkest times when I did horrible things. He was there. As the years passed after that, we grew closer, forming an unbreakable bond. We told each other everything. We were each other's everything. We still are.

For years, my brother had been the only person that kept me going. I lived for him, lived to make sure he was safe and happy. I thought he was the only person I needed.

But Negan changed all of that.

Now, I was staring my future in its face, knowing that in order to live for myself, I would have to admit the truth to myself.

My wolf wanted Negan, I knew that. But deep down, I think I wanted Negan too.


	17. Chapter 17

Cameron was released from the hospital a couple of hours later, and it was past midnight by the time we walked into our house. The last twenty four hours had been completely insane, with multiple life changing events occurring one after the other. Waking up with Negan. Being with Negan. Cameron's accident. My memories. My self realization. By now, my ability to process or form any coherent thought had flown out the window. I was exhausted, both mentally and physically.

Without a word, Cameron plopped down on the couch, scrolling through his phone, carefully maneuvering his broken arm to a comfortable position. I was relieved to hear that he had been given a clear bill of health, that his concussion was minor, and that he would ultimately be okay. I judged his posture for a moment and when our cat Zander jumped on his lap, I knew he was feeling relaxed.

"Cam, I'm going to take a shower. Do you need anything?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Go do what you gotta do."

I went to my room and grabbed some socks, underwear, and my favorite pajamas that consisted of black sleep shorts and an old Fall Out Boy T-shirt. I decided to go without my usual sports bra.

Making my way into the bathroom, I closed the door and walked over to the vanity mirror. After the day's events, I expected to see an exceptionally exhausted woman looking at me. I was a little taken aback to see something else entirely.

My lips were fuller than normal, their shade similar to when I was wearing lipstick, although I didn't have any makeup on. My complexion was smooth and my cheeks perfectly flushed. I think what startled me most about my appearance was my eyes. They were vibrant, with full black lashes framing them. I looked attractive. My self confidence was something I always struggled with, so me thinking that about myself was a shocker. I looked as I used to, back when I was—

"No," I told my reflection. "Don't go there."

When I had started turning at twenty one, I began to notice that the more often I turned, the less my appearance changed. Something about the wolf trait coursing through my body halted my aging. When I had stopped turning, I noticed that I started to age. It was subtle, but the few years I had missed out on caught up with me. But right now? I looked different, better somehow. Perhaps getting in touch with my wolf last night physically altered me.

As I stripped off my clothes, I noticed that the change wasn't only in my face. My curves were rounder, less subtle. My breasts were perky, their shape fuller than what I was used to. Although my connection with my wolf had been brief, it clearly changed me. I pulled my hair from a ponytail and it fell loosely past my shoulders in perfect waves.

This was so weird.

As I stepped into the shower, I tried pushing all thoughts from my head, although it was a wasted effort. My mind drifted to Negan this morning, specifically when I woke up, feeling his length pressed against me…

"Get a grip, Carson," I muttered to myself. I continued my shower, washing myself and shaving where I needed to. I'm not sure how much time had passed when I finally turned off the shower taps and stepped out.

I could hear the sounds from the TV in the living room, glad that Cameron was making himself comfortable after today. After towel drying my hair, I pulled on my pajamas and brushed my teeth. I turned off the sink to hear a voice, Cameron's voice. Although I couldn't make out what he was saying, he sounded animated, his inflection similar to when he was talking to someone. I figured he was on the phone…but this late at night? It was odd.

I exited the bathroom, making my way down the hall and to the living room. I wasn't paying much attention to my surroundings, looking down and only focusing on Cameron's voice. As my feet hit the carpet, I started to speak.

"Cam, who are you talk—"

As I looked up, the rest of the sentence didn't make it out of my mouth.

Sitting on the couch with his feet propped up and my cat purring in his lap was none other than Negan himself.


	18. Chapter 18

I stood there for several moments, completely dumbfounded. How did he find me? Why is he here? Oh god, I'm not wearing a bra….

My thoughts flickered through my mind at a rapid pace. Cameron hadn't noticed me yet, he was telling Negan some story that I immediately tuned out of. Right now, Negan was consuming my senses and diminishing my ability to focus on anything else other than him. It was like there was an unbreakable electric current flowing between us.

His hazel eyes had met mine almost immediately, but unlike every other time I had seen him, he didn't smile. In that moment, he was able to silently convey all of his emotions to me through his eyes. I could see the anger, but I saw something else that scared me even more than the thought of an angry Negan. He somehow managed to look like he was still engaged in a conversation with my brother, but all of his attention was on me. And my body.

My wolf saw the look in his eyes, but it was affecting me too. I had never been looked at like that before. The intensity of his gaze as his eyes traveled up and down my body made heat pool in my belly. He knew what he was doing to me, hell, he was getting off on it. And after a moment of drinking me in, he smiled smugly, his dimples forming in the most perfect way, making my heart drum faster in my chest.

You want him, my wolf reminded me. And I did, especially with that annoyingly handsome face of his. But I decided that my pursuit of Negan was going to be exactly that, my pursuit. Not his. No, I refused to just give in that easily. If he wanted this, wanted me, he was going to have to work for it. At the beginning, he had been so sure, so arrogantly believed in the notion that I would be the one who gave into him. Maybe it was just my stubbornness to submit…but I started to consider the possibility of him being the one to give in.

The wives, my wolf nearly snarled, and the thought his me like a freight train. Somehow, I had completely forgotten about them…I know that eventually, that topic of conversation would arise, but maybe tonight wasn't the time for me to bring it up. It wasn't nearly as important as Negan's presence in my home. He was on my territory now and I planned on using that to my advantage.

So instead of looking away from embarrassment at my state of dress, I maintained eye contact with him, trying to convey my own sense of autonomy. We continued to stare at each other, silently challenging one another to make a move. Cameron noticed Negan's lack of focus and turned his head to see me standing there.

"Hey! There you are. You didn't tell me Negan was coming over," he said, looking a little annoyed.

For a moment, I was at a loss for words, trying to come up with a reason as to why he would be there. Negan spoke before I could.

"Your sister didn't know I was coming, Cameron. I just felt like surprising my girl." To Cameron, his words probably sounded flattering, but I noticed his inflection, the way the words came out of his mouth…clearly, he was mad that I didn't show.

"Hell, today is just full of surprises," Negan continued, leaning forward on the couch, turning towards Cameron. "For example, when your sister didn't show up to our date, I was pretty fucking surprised. But hey, I get it, you were in a car accident, she was worried about you, which is why she didn't show. But that's totally cool, isn't it Carson?" He asked sarcastically, turning his attention to me. Cameron was looking between the two of us confused, clearly having no idea what was going on between Negan and I.

I cleared my throat. "Cam, didn't you say you were going to bed? Something about the pain meds making you sleepy?" I asked as my eyes narrowed, hoping he would take the hint to leave.

He did, thank god. "Ah yeah, right! They do make me drowsy," he said, rather convincingly. "I should go to bed, seeing I was in a car accident and all…"

He stood up from the couch and walked past me, but not before turning to address Negan again. "Hey, it was really cool to meet you. I'm glad my sister finally found her Great," he concluded before walking to his room and closing the door. I had turned to watch him, furious at him for mentioning that stupid childish bedtime story. I tuned back to Negan.

"What the fuck is a 'Great'?" He asked, his voice curious.

I shook my head. "No, that's not important right now. What's important is how—"

"How delicious you look in those damn shorts," he finished, that same look in his eyes from earlier. He stood from the couch, looking me up and down.

"God, don't you get tired of saying shit like that?" I said before I could stop myself.

He grinned while taking a few steps towards me, closing the distance. "Actually, I don't get tired at all. In fact, I have some great fucking stamina…"

I managed to keep my expression neutral as I looked up at him. He was dressed similarly to that first night, with his leather jacket, loose fitting grey pants, and crisp white T-shirt underneath. His black hair was slicked back, quite the contrast to the bed head Negan that I had witnessed that morning. Lucille was missing…but I knew she had to be in close proximity to him. His scent was assaulting my senses and clouding my judgment a bit. God, he smelled amazing. I wondered if he tasted—

No! I mentally scolded myself. He knew what he was doing, that bastard. How his presence consumed me. But I wasn't giving in. Not yet, anyway…

"How did you find me?"

"I told you I would if you didn't show," he said nonchalantly.

"No, I meant like how? Did you…I don't know, follow my scent or something?" I asked.

He grinned. "While I'm good, and believe me I'm fucking great at a lot of things…I'm not that good. It turns out Fat Joey is also Techie Joey. Guy's pretty good with Google."

I sighed. "Negan, I'm—"

He shook his head. "Don't apologize, doll. I mean, I have to admit, I was pretty pissed, sitting in the middle of the woods like an ass waiting for you. I thought you had been lying, that you had totally bullshitted me this morning. I was ready to show you that from now on, I'm the one calling the shots. And when I got here and a guy opened the door, I was about ready to break his other arm."

While he had been talking, I paid close attention to his expressions. Something I was figuring out about Negan was that although he was an expert in keeping up his façade, his eyes communicated what his words didn't. He had been upset when I didn't show, but he seemed to be understanding of what happened too. I also got the impression that he wasn't the type of man that liked being stood up. But towards the end when he was talking about Cameron, his eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared, almost like he was—

"Were you jealous, Negan?" I asked, my voice coming out surprisingly innocent.

He smirked at me. "Fuck no. I just don't want you shacking up with anyone. You're mine and I don't fucking share."

Now seemed like a good as time as any to bring up his wives, or whatever they were. "Neither do I," I replied, knowing that he knew what I was referencing.

"Oh, are you jealous, baby?" He asked, obviously amused.

Yes, my wolf snarled. I scoffed at him. "No. But in what reality would you expect me to give you a chance when there's an unknown number of women that you—"

"Five," he interrupted.

My mouth dropped. "Five other women? And that's not enough for you?"

He shook his head. "You know damn well why that's not enough, Carson—"

I spoke before he could finish. My blood was beginning to boil and my voice came out louder than I intended. "Christ, how naïve do you think I am, Negan? Do you really think I would be with you when you're screwing—"

A third voice, somewhat muffled, entered our conversation. "Uh, guys? I'm trying to sleep!"

I groaned and pointed Negan towards the backward. "Outside. Now," my voice forceful.

"Yes m'am," he said, actually following my direction and going to the back and heading outside. I followed behind him as he entered the patio.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Negan beat me to it.

"Look doll, before you rip me a new asshole, let me tell you a little story. When I first took over the pack, it was a goddam free for all, no fucking rules whatsoever. And a few of the female wolves were vulnerable, and easy targets for asshole rapists, so I offered them protection in exchange for…well, being my wife. But let me say that I never forced anyone that didn't want to be there. Every one of those girls made a choice because they wanted to survive."

I realized that the wives must have been a status symbol for him. They represented his power and influence as the alpha. Somehow, in a warped and twisted way, it made sense, having multiple women at his disposal, showing the world that he could have anything he wanted. It was a power play. But that didn't mean I was comfortable with it.

"Negan…" I started.

"But you don't have to worry about them anymore," he interrupted.

I tilted my head in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Negan looked down at the ground, shuffling on his feet for a moment. It was odd, compared to his usual overly confident exterior. Was he…nervous?

"I mean that they're now ex-wives. Kinda," he shrugged. "I promised those girls my protection and they'll still have it, but I'm not going to be screwing them anymore. As far as the pack knows, they're still my wives, but between you and me…." He trailed off, seemingly regaining his focus and exterior.

Me on the other hand…I was at a loss for words. I couldn't believe that he would do something like that for me.

"I…wouldn't have asked you to do that, Negan." I said, surprising myself with my response. He looked at me like I was completely crazy. And then he laughed.

"Wait, so you're mad that I have them and now you're mad that I don't?" He asked, still chuckling to himself.

"I'm not mad…just surprised, I guess. I can't believe that you gave up five other women for me…" I was starting to feel a little self-conscious. What could I offer him that five other women couldn't?

He closed the distance between us faster than I could comprehend. Gently, he turned my face, so all of my attention would be on him.

"I meant what I said that first night," he said huskily. "I want you. And I'm gonna have you, you bet your cute little ass I am. But I…shit, I guess I want you to want me too. And the wives would have gotten in the way of that. Besides, all five of them put together aren't worth a damn fraction of you."


	19. Chapter 19

I looked into his hazel eyes and I could see the sincerity in them…and the desire. I never would have expected him to give up a part of his power, even if it just stayed a secret between us. It was the whole point that he was actually considering this, considering me. His fingers began to move, sweeping along my jaw and moving to tuck a damp strand of hair behind my ear. For a moment, I allowed myself to get lost in his touch. His fingers were rough, but they felt so warm, I couldn't help but wonder what they would feel like touching me in a much more intimate place—

"I've got a proposition for you," he said, pulling me out of my thoughts. I raised an eyebrow. What could it be now?

"Give me a month. Thirty fuckin' days with you to show you just how badly you want this. How badly you want me. If, and that's a big fucking if, you decide you don't want this, I'll let you go back to your boring ass life."

I stepped back, needing to lose the feeling of his skin on mine to think clearly. He wanted me to himself for a whole month? My wolf was jumping for joy at the thought of thirty days of Negan, but I couldn't help but wonder about his agenda.

"What's the catch?" I asked after a few seconds transpired.

He waved a finger back and forth. "No catch," he said, but then his expression changed and I knew there was some stipulation he was going to add.

"Well…maybe one. You have to be yourself. No acting all shy and shit and avoiding me. No, you gotta be one hundred percent authentic as shit. Really be yourself with me. I saw a glimpse of that this morning and it was magnificent. That's all I want from you. The rest? Hell, that will happen on its own," he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and ending with a wink.

You want him, my wolf reminded me again. And I did…his offer seemed reasonable enough. But there was still something that didn't add up.

"What's in it for you?" I asked.

He gave me one of his trademark grins, complete with those annoyingly cute dimples. "Why, you of course. At the end of this, I'm gonna have you by my side. Like you said this morning, we are the damn wheel. And I know for a fact that somewhere deep down, you want to be a leader, maybe even help our pack. On top of that, I'm gonna have one beautiful and kick ass woman that's gonna be all mine.

"You seem overly confident that I'm going to give in," I muttered unconvincingly. The more he spoke, the more I was losing my resolve to deny him. At this point, I didn't think I could.

He shook his head. "See that's what you're not getting, doll. I'm not expecting you to just give in like I'm forcing you into this shit. No, somewhere along the way, you're finally going to admit to yourself that you want me and you're going to fucking take what you want! You're going to be mine because you want to, not because you have to be."

"And are you going to be mine?" I asked. The moment the words left my mouth, I wished I could take them back. The look on his face changed, his smile turning to a frown and his eyes glazing over. He looked like he was remembering something…maybe something he didn't want to remember. But just as soon as that expression crossed his face, it left, replaced with his usual demeanor.

"We'll fuckin' see about that," he said. His voice had a certain tone to it, telling me that he wasn't truly committed to the idea of belonging to anyone.

I started to think over everything he said. Earlier today, I had somehow made up my mind that I wanted to pursue him. And now he was offering me that. At the same time, I wanted him to want to pursue me too. It wasn't about me being stubborn…it was about wanting him to commit, if Negan committing to one woman after several was even possible.

"I have some conditions of my own," I realized aloud.

"I'm all fucking ears, doll."

"Okay…Well, one of your conditions is that I'm authentic and I'd like for you to be authentic too." I paused, nervous at what he would say when I mentioned his character. "I get the impression that as the alpha, you have to show the world a certain side of you so you'll be respected and taken seriously. But a part of me can't help but wonder what you're like outside of that persona."

He grinned. "What, you think I'm a big fuckin' softy, Carson?" He asked, somewhat teasingly. I couldn't help but smile at that.

"Oh Negan, I'm sure of it," I responded, the same hint of humor in my tone.

He gave a genuine laugh. "You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say that you're flirting with me."

I snorted. "Please. I'm just stating the obvious."

Negan shrugged. "Whatever you say, doll. Now this," he said, motioning between him and I, "is gonna be fun."

I shook my head and looked up at him, not being able to admire the way his eyes sparkled. "You know, I haven't agreed yet. And for the record, you never agreed to my conditions."

He narrowed his eyes at me. "There was only one condition."

"No," I said. "There's more, you just distracted me with your witty remark."

"Oh, now you think I'm witty?" He asked playfully.

I ignored his question. "Other conditions," I continued, "are that you do NOT mention the wolf thing to my brother whatsoever. And when you're here, your uh— Lucille has to be put away."

Negan looked at me, silently questioning if I was serious. And I was. There was no way in hell he was going to openly talk about being a werewolf around my brother, or wield his favorite weapon of destruction.

"Okay, first of all, does your brother not know what you are?" He asked.

I nodded. "He knows, it just…kinda freaks him out, so we don't talk about it."

"Weird. And secondly, do you really think I'm not going to have Lucille with me all the damn time?"

"Where is she now?" I asked, looking around us to prove a point.

"Don't be a smart ass," Negan quipped. "She's in the truck."

"So…you didn't bring her in my house because…?"

"Because I'm in the middle of fuckin' goddamn suburbia and I didn't want any of your dumb ass neighbors to call the cops on me!" The annoyance in his voice was obvious, but I realized that I kind of liked making him squirm for once.

I smirked up at him. "Well then, it sounds like you're agreeing to my terms after all."

Negan was looking down at me like I was the most annoying thing in the world, but the creases in his eyes showed me that he liked this, our bantering.

"You agreeing to mine?"

I sighed, even though I had known my answer all along. "Yes."

Negan grinned widely at my acceptance and stepped closer, looming over my small frame. Yet again, his scent engulfed me and drove me wild, but I managed to maintain my calm exterior. And yet again, he brought his warm hand to my face and let his fingers linger over my cheek.

"Oh baby," he said, his voice low and husky. "This is gonna be real fun."


	20. Chapter 20

As John Green once wrote, "my thoughts are stars that I cannot fathom into constellations." His words completely summed up my current state of mind. My thoughts were as scattered as the stars, not quite connecting as they once did. A meteor had shot across my sky, illuminating everything and bringing some kind of vibrancy to the life I once felt was mundane. That meteor was Negan. He had changed everything.

As I laid in bed still reeling from my encounter with him last night, I found myself reflecting on every moment of it. The deep tenor of his voice, his scent, that sparkle of life in his eyes…I had finally reached the point where I could admit to myself that I was extremely attracted to him. Not just my wolf, no I was attracted to the enigmatic Negan. He had promised me thirty days of him, but somewhere deep down, I knew that it wouldn't take thirty days for me to admit my feelings to him. Negan had made a wager that he had unknowingly already won.

Still, that didn't mean that I couldn't have any fun with this. I intended to hold out as long as possible, not wanting to make this easy for him. And I still had a challenge of my own.

I had promised Negan that I would be myself, and I intended to keep that promise. In return, I wanted him to be himself and I knew that was easier said than done. Breaking down Negan's walls hidden behind layers of his charismatic persona would prove to be a challenge. But I was up for it. I wanted to know who Negan really was, the life he lived before he became the alpha. I wanted to know all of him.

Sighing and looking at my clock to see it was past 12 in the afternoon, I decided I better get out of bed. Tonight was the start of it all, the first night that I would spend with Negan. We hadn't worked out the specifics of our deal, but I knew that he would surely have a plan for the next month. I had plans of my own too.

I got out of my bed and walked down the hall to the living room and was immediately floored by the traces of Negan's scent that still lingered in the room. Whiskey, leather, nature…Negan. It was all so alluring and arousing to me. Clearly, I already had it bad for him. He didn't even have to be in the room for me to be so affected by him. I was so wrapped up by his scent that I didn't notice my brother sitting on the couch, already drinking a beer and scrolling on his phone. He was already looking at me with an all knowing smile that I wanted to smack off his face.

"So…" he started. "How'd it go last night?"

I shrugged, a part of me not wanting to make it a big deal. "It went," I replied simply.

Cameron raised his eyebrows. "And?"

"And…I'm seeing him again tonight."

He let out a wolf whistle. "You go, Carson! Get your Great."

I couldn't help but giggle at his response. "Seriously Cam, what makes you so sure that Negan's my Great anyway?"

He leaned forward on the couch, propping an elbow on his leg. "I think you forget that I've known you your entire life. And I've never seen you so into someone before. Hell, I've never seen you into anyone for that matter. And should I dare say that the sexual tension between you two is—"

"Cam, I'm not having this talk with you!" I said, cutting him off. My brother's analysis of my relationship with Negan was humorous to say the least, but I did not want to have that talk with him.

"Suit yourself," he said. "But seriously Carson, you like him."

I deflected his comment, turning the conversation around. "Do you like him?" I asked, honestly wanting to know what Cameron thought of Negan. He was my only family and for some reason, his approval for my potential suitor still mattered to me.

"Well…yeah, I do. I think he's a cool guy. He's funny. And I never would have thought you had a thing for older guys," he said, making me blush. "And…it's obvious that he cares about you."

I shook my head. "I'm not sure if Negan's the type to care, Cam." And I wasn't sure, which only contributed to my reluctance towards opening up to Negan.

"I think he's the type of guy that acts like he doesn't care, when in reality, he cares a whole lot."

I thought over my brother's words. It definitely made sense.

"I don't know. But I want to know him, know what he's really like. I'm just not sure if he'll let me in."

Cameron pondered for a moment. "You got to give him a reason to let you in. Show him you're not going anywhere, that he can trust you. But at the same time, make sure he's doing the same for you."

"Thank you, Dr. Drew," I replied, humor apparent in my voice. Truthfully, I appreciated all of the advice my brother had given me on Negan, because I had no idea on how to decipher the man.

"Smartass," he muttered. "Oh, and I'm going to Ash's tonight, so you and Negan will have the entire house to yourselves…" he trails off suggestively.

I groaned. "Cameron, enough with the innuendos, please!"

My brother shrugged and went back to his scrolling. I decided that I would take it easy today, do some laundry, clean up the house, and binge something on Netflix. I went through the motions of my chores, allowing their mundanity to drown out my insecurities about tonight, about myself. I didn't know what the next thirty days would bring. I just knew that no matter how nervous I was, somewhere deep down, I was ready for it. Ready for Negan.


	21. Chapter 21

A few hours later, I had deemed the house clean and suitable for Negan's first official visit. A part of me was still spinning from his unofficial visit the night before, my nerves building at the thought of being in my house with him completely alone. Cameron had been picked up by one of our old band mates about an hour ago and was going to stay at his place for the night. He seemed happy to hang out with a friend, despite his constant reminder that he would be back tomorrow afternoon, so I wouldn't have to worry about him walking in on Negan and I.

After Cameron had left me totally embarrassed and somehow even more nervous, I jumped in the shower, washed and shaved my legs and other areas meticulously, and upon getting out, deemed myself suitably groomed. Leaving the bathroom, I went to my bedroom to choose something to wear, which was a daunting task in itself. What do I wear on a date in my own house, I wondered. I had decided on being comfortable, putting on a pair of skinny jeans and a form fitting black deep v-neck sweater that did wonders for my chest. Going back into the bathroom, I combed out my hair and left it down, my natural waves looking like I had put more effort into them than I really had. Figuring out how to do my makeup gave me a bit of anxiety, but then I thought back to what Negan had said the previous night about me being myself, being authentic with him. And the real me didn't like to wear a lot of makeup. Whipping out my mascara, I applied a bit to my already dark lashes, deciding to go without any other makeup. If Negan wanted the real me, he was going to get the real me. The recent yet subtle changes to my appearance had helped that. As I looked at myself in the mirror, my nerves somehow began to disappear. I looked and felt like the real me and a part of me hoped that Negan would like that. My anxiety melted away and was replaced with a sense of curiosity, maybe even excitement. I knew that tonight would probably consist of making dinner and a movie, which seemed so ordinary, but I knew that a night with Negan would be anything but ordinary.

I went to the living room and sat down on a recliner, waiting for my guest to arrive. I wasn't sure how much time had passed when I heard rhythmic knocking on the front door. I stood up and checked my blurred reflection in the TV, deciding I looked pretty good. Taking a deep breath, I unlocked the door and placed a steady hand on the knob, pulling it open to reveal Negan.

My eyes immediately found his, which were twinkling with delight. I gave him a genuine smile, but then my gaze drifted down to what was in his arms: a large brown paper bag with a roll of French bread peaking out at the top. I raised my eyebrows, silently asking him a question.

"What, doll? Didn't expect me to bring you dinner?"

I smirked at him. "Definitely not. But I have to say that it's a nice surprise. Come in," I said taking a step back so he could move into the house. He moved past me, looming over me as I closed the door and locked it. I could feel his eyes on me as I did so, and I allowed myself to look up at him. Plastered on his face was was his trademark grin, but there was something else dancing in his hazel eyes, a sense of longing that made me shiver. The way he was looking at me was overwhelming, turning my earlier sense of self confidence into self consciousness.

"What is it?" I asked him, my voice coming out lower than I had intended.

He shrugged. "I missed ya," Negan said simply, moving past me and into the kitchen. I followed closely behind and watched as he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over one of the chairs. I found myself very distracted by his arms, firm and slightly muscular, scattered with tattoos. I took in his profile, traced the lines on his face with my eyes, ending with his stupid yet insanely adorable dimples. For once, he remained silent, which was uncharacteristic of him, but then I realized that he knew that I was looking at him, that he was holding my attention. The clouds of doubt for myself, for the situation, and for him started rolling in, promising a storm that would ruin this whole thing before it even began. I closed my eyes, attempting to center myself. My wolf, or maybe it was really me, fought against the clouds hard enough that a sliver of light began to shine through. I could do this, I told myself. As I opened my eyes, I found Negan looking back at me, somehow knowing my inward battle without needing to ask.

"You good?" He asked. There was so much meaning in it. He wasn't just asking about my state of mind, but that I was good with this, good with him. And I was.

I smiled up at him. "I'm good."

He nodded but didn't say anything else as he began to unpack the contents of the bag, pulling out the French bread, some small containers of spices, and a box of pasta. I couldn't help but scrunch my nose as he pulled out a can of spaghetti sauce and Negan noticed my expression.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?"

"Nothing," I lied, not wanting to discuss my serious dislike of spaghetti. Not dislike, no I've hated spaghetti for years. But I really didn't want Negan to think I didn't appreciate his gesture of making me dinner.

He smirked at me. "Got a problem with spaghetti?"

"N-no," I said, rather unconvincingly.

Negan sighed. "What was my condition, Carson?"

Be yourself, I answered silently in my head. Negan's eyes were on me, expecting an honest answer.

"Fine," I sighed. "I kind of hate spaghetti."

His mouth dropped. "How in the ever loving fuck do you hate spaghetti?"

I shrugged. "Long story."

He shrugged back at me. "We got all night, darlin'."

Well, here goes nothing, I thought. "Okay, so when I was a kid, maybe nine years old, Cameron was learning how to cook and he made spaghetti. I'm not sure where he went wrong, I think something with the sauce…but it made me sick and I haven't eaten it since."

Negan cocked an eyebrow at me. "Sick as in…?"

I groaned. "As in I threw up, okay?"

He looked at me for a moment, before breaking out into laughter.

I didn't have to see my face to know that I was turning red. "It's not funny, Negan," I said while he continued to laugh. Now, I wanted to curl up into a corner and stay there forever.

He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, obviously enjoying my embarrassment. "Shit, I'm sorry, doll! It's just that as bad ass as you are, I would have never guessed that you're afraid of spaghetti."

I scoffed and it was surprisingly playful. "I'm not afraid of spaghetti! I just don't like it. There's a difference."

"Well, that's because you've never had my spaghetti. And the way I make my sauce? It's my speciality. You won't regret it," he ended, rather convincingly.

For a second, I thought that if I had suggested on making something else, he probably would have complied. But he was doing all of this for me, showing me a part of himself that I didn't know existed. A domesticated Negan.

"Okay. Let's see if you can change my opinion on my least favorite food," I said. I found myself genuinely curious about Negan's cooking, maybe even more so about watching Negan move around my kitchen.

"Doll, I plan on it," he said smugly.

I moved around the kitchen, pulling out the necessary pans and utensils that Negan would need. He stood at the counter, carefully concocting his recipe and managed to find an apron that I didn't know we had and pulled it on. I went through the basic motions of prepping for him, boiling water on the stove and cutting the French bread and seasoning it with garlic salt and putting it in the oven. We were both silent as we worked, but it wasn't awkward. It was comfortable, Negan and I moving around each other effortlessly, without bumping into one another in the small space. It felt familiar somehow.

As I waited for the water to boil and Negan was at the stove working on his sauce, I figured that now was a good time to ask him questions and get to know him better.

"So what else can you cook?" I asked, genuinely curious about his culinary skills.

He briefly smirked at me before turning his attention back to the stove. "Unfortunately for you sweetheart, the one and only meal I do right is spaghetti," he said while dumping the box of noodles into the pan of boiling water.

I couldn't help but laugh. "It's okay. I'm pretty limited in what I can make too. Cameron's the cook around here. I'd definitely starve without him."

He nodded. "Speaking of your brother…he mentioned something about you being adopted last night. What's the story there?" His attention was completely focused on me.

For a moment, I was caught off guard by his question. Then again, I wasn't surprised that Cameron had mentioned that we weren't really related. I thought about answering the question that would require me to reflect on my history and it scared me. Telling someone about the deepest darkest parts of me. But this wasn't just someone. This was Negan. My mate, my wolf reminded me in a whisper.

As I took a breath, I was instantly assaulted by the smell of bread that was beginning to burn.

"Shit, the garlic bread!" I said as I rushed to open the oven, grabbing a dish towel and folding it haphazardly and pulling out the garlic bread. Almost immediately, a burning sensation spread across my fingers. Clearly, I hadn't folded the towel well enough. I pretty much dropped the pan on the counter and started waving my hand at the irritation.

"Here, let me see," Negan said. Before I could object, he took my hand in his and inspected my fingers, looking for any sign of damage. I watched his face, but his reaction took me off guard. No matter how minor that accident was, concern washed over his face. I couldn't help but get lost in the sensation of my hand being engulfed by his, much larger and warmer. His long fingers ghosted around my fingers, moving up to caress the inside of my wrist. He looked up from my hand, hazel eyes meeting blue. As soon as our eyes met, an electrical current passed between us, seemingly unbreakable. Until another odor began to invade our senses.

"Shit, the sauce!" Negan exclaimed, letting go of me to move to the saucepan, stirring the sauce quickly before it could burn. He stirred for a moment before turning off the burner and sighed. Looking at him, still worried about his spaghetti sauce, I couldn't help my first reaction.

I laughed. The whole thing was ridiculous. It took Negan a moment before he started laughing with me. The laughter died down after a few moments and Negan took off the apron, draping it over a chair, leaving him clad in that white shirt that hugged his body.

"Well shit," Negan said. "We both almost fucked up our first date."

I blushed, both from checking him out yet again and when he stated this was our first date. It felt more official somehow…but it still didn't feel like enough.

I shook my head at him. "Negan, this is definitely not our first date."

He tilted his head. "You're right. It's more like our third."

I scoffed. "Hardly! And besides, what are you counting as dates?"

"Hmm, let's see. There was the rooftop, classic and romantic and shit. Then there was the stargazing in the woods the other night, also romantic as shit. And then there's tonight."

"Clearly, you have low standards for dates."

He chuckled. "And clearly Carson, you've never had a man try and romance you."

Shit. He was right about that. But I realized that I was enjoying our flirting. Wait, flirting? I was flirting with Negan?

Shit indeed.

I decided to roll with it. "And let me guess. You're that man?"

He grinned at me. I realized that I'd never get tired of seeing him smile, especially when it was genuine like it was now.

"Depends on if you like my spaghetti. If you don't, then this relationship is definitely not going to work out. So let's eat!"


	22. Chapter 22

Ultimately, Negan lived up to the task of changing my mind on spaghetti. I found myself honestly enjoying the food, but maybe the company had something to do with that. I was comfortable eating with him and I could never forget the smile he gave me when I said that I actually liked the food. We had finished our meals, the duration of our eating time was mostly silent, probably because Negan wanted to me savor the spaghetti. Surprisingly, he picked up both our plates and silverware and took them to the sink and started washing the dishes, along with the pans we had used. I moved next to him, silently drying the pans and dishes and putting them away. Negan was the one who broke the silence, turning off the sink and leaning back against the counter, his attention focused on me.

"So…are you going to fill me in about the whole being adopted thing or am I gonna have to pry it out of that brother of yours?"

I sighed, knowing this was going to come up again. But I decided that I was going to be honest with him about everything. About me.

I nodded, my eyes meeting his. "Cameron's parents adopted me when I was five."

"Do you know anything about your real folks?"

I cringed, but continued. "Yes, but I'd rather not get into that right now, if you don't mind."

Negan clearly saw my discomfort at the mention of my parents and let it go, although I knew he wouldn't forget. He nodded. "They still around?" He asked, referencing the Gardners.

I shook my head. "They died about a year after they adopted me."

"Shit, I'm sorry," he started, but I silenced him with a look, telling him that it was okay.

"So it's just always been you and your brother then?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Cam, he's all I have."

"Not anymore," Negan muttered under his breath, but I still heard it. Hearing him say those words made my stomach flip. But I didn't acknowledge them, not yet.

"So what about you?" I asked him, wanting to know more about his background. I saw that same look from before as his eyes glazed over, his mind seemingly recalling something from the past. A part of me wanted to ask again, but the rational part of me didn't want to pressure him. He didn't answer my question and moved past me out of the kitchen and into the living room. He didn't seem to be looking at anything in particular, but then his eyes found some pictures and he studied those. He grinned widely at a photo and when I walked over to join him, I blushed when I saw which one it was.

It was a photo of me and my brother, smiling widely at the camera, guitars in our hands. Our band had just had some major success and earned us a spot headlining a local rock tour. We were happy, for once in our lives, it seemed like things were going our way. I turned my thoughts away from the past and focused more closely on the photo itself, specifically my appearance, and was instantly mortified. I was dressed in a white tank, a red plaid skirt, and Doc Martens, my eyes lined heavily with liner, clearly the stereotypical look for female musicians in the mid 2000s. My outfit choice wasn't the only thing that bothered me…it was my hair. Cut short and choppy with blood red streaks mixing in with my natural black hair. I was blushing furiously when Negan turned to look at me, grinning widely.

"Now I got to know what that's all about," he said playfully while pointing to the picture. "Clearly, you've been hiding things from me, Carson."

"I'm not hiding anything. I just haven't told you about it yet."

He chuckled. "So tell me. Were you in a band or somethin'? You play guitar? And what on earth was going on with your hair?"

A small part of me, the part that was still hesitant to let him in, wanted to give brief answers to his questions. But I had already decided that I was ignoring that part of me and that I was going to tell Negan all the gory details. Badly dyed hair and all.

"Yes, I was in a band. When I was 17, I dropped out of high school to start one with Cameron, not really knowing much about music. But he taught me, just like he did everything else. He taught me how to play guitar and I later picked up the piano on my own. Our band, Pulse, did really well there for a while. Like Top 40 charts well. But that was a long time ago."

I paused, taking Negan in and seeing how engrossed he was in my story. He looked at me thoughtfully, void of any sarcastic remarks, so I continued.

"My hair? It was cool…then. And don't you dare tell me that you've never had a seriously horrible hairstyle that you absolutely loved."

Negan smiled at me smugly. "I did live through the damn 80s, you know."

I laughed at the thought of Negan with a pompadour. But that reminded me…

"How old are you, by the way?" I asked.

"49," he answered. "Does that bother you?"

I quickly did the math in my head. Negan was 17 years older than me.

"No," I said, surprised by my answer. "It probably should, but it doesn't."

"And how old are you, kid? 22?"

I smirked at him. "32, actually. The whole wolf thing makes me look a lot younger."

Negan hummed and moved to sit on the loveseat. He looked at me expectantly and I moved to sit next to him. The distance between us was small and his scent invaded my senses. I couldn't help but wonder if my scent had the same impact on him. Given his hooded expression, I would say that it did.

"So how'd it happen? Who bit you?" He asked. I didn't need clarification on what he meant.

I looked down at my hands in my lap and shook my head. "I wasn't bitten, Negan. I was born like this."

I looked up to see Negan looking at me with a sense of awe in his eyes. I knew that I was a rarity in our world, since so many people who were wolves were turned by being bitten. The wolf trait was like cancer in a way. Once it got into your system and engulfed your cells, you became someone else, your biology changed. Even similarly, there was no cure for either one.

"Who bit you?" I asked Negan without thinking about his response. But the way he looked at me, the look in his eyes that told me he shut down, told me I wouldn't get a response.

"Another time, doll. For now, I wanna get back to the fact that you're a goddamn musician. Where the fuck is your guitar?"

As I began to speak, my phone started vibrating, signaling an incoming call, probably from Cameron. He was the only one who ever called me.

"Sorry, I should get that. It's probably Cameron," I told Negan apologetically before getting up and grabbing my phone off the table. When a different name other than my brother's flashed across the screen, I didn't answer, waiting for the caller to give up. Out of all the nights…

"You gonna get that?" Negan asked as the phone stopped ringing. As I started putting down the phone, it vibrated again, another attempt to reach me.

I groaned, but answered anyway. Before I started to speak, the voice on the other end beat me to it.

"Hey Carson, I'm sorry to call like this after so long, but we had some newbie band cancel on us last minute and we could really use some help over here. I tried Cam, but with his arm and all…"

I sighed, knowing what he was asking me and how impossible it was. "Nick, I…"

As I had started speaking, my eyes trailed off to Negan. He was looking at me, wonder dancing around in his eyes. My mind drifted to his conditions, that I be myself. And a huge part of myself was the fact that I was a musician. Music, art, the creation of something bigger than myself…it was my soul. Who I was. Who I am.

I hadn't performed live in years. Not since…it happened. But maybe, just maybe I could tap into that part of myself again. And maybe I could share it with Negan.

I closed my eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. "I'm on my way," I told him, sure of my decision. As I opened my eyes, I ended the call, but didn't look over at Negan just yet. I felt his eyes on me as I walked to the hall closet and grabbed my backpack and pulled on my favorite leather jacket. Coming back into the living room, I looked at Negan, who was staring me down. His mouth was pressed into a firm line, annoyance and disbelief present in his expression. He knew I was leaving. Little did he know that he was coming with me. So I decided to have fun with it. I did enjoy watching him squirm a bit, knowing that I had that effect on him. I pulled my keys out of my backpack and started walking towards the back door. But not before turning around to smirk at Negan, who by now was fuming. He opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.

"You coming?"


	23. Chapter 23

"So let's make sure that I've got this straight. You're a damn rockstar?" Negan asked. We were in my car and on our way to The Hideaway, a local venue downtown where I used to perform with my brother. I had given Negan a brief explanation of where we were going, but clearly it was too brief, so I would have to fill him in.

I scoffed and shook my head. "God, no. I'm a musician. Or at least I was," I shrugged and looked at him briefly. "A few years after we started, our band kinda fell apart. But Cameron and I kept it going, even though it was just the two of us. This place we're going to, The Hideaway, is where we used to do shows a few times a week. And now they need someone to fill a spot for tonight—"

"Which is where you come in," he finished. I nodded and glanced at him again apologetically. A part of me felt bad about the sudden change of plans. Then again, we didn't really have set plans other than the fact that we'd spend time together tonight.

"We won't be there for long, an hour at the most. I'm really sorry about—"

Negan raised his hand, silencing me. "Doll, don't fuckin' apologize! You know how awesome it's going to be to see you on a stage, front and center, singing your damn heart out? I do have one request though."

"And what's that?" I asked.

"I want you to sing me a song. Something you really love," he said. "Got it?"

I giggled at his request and the seriousness of it. "And if I don't?" I asked playfully.

"Then I am gonna shut that shit down. Get on that stage and go all caveman on your cute ass again."


	24. Chapter 24

About half an hour later, I found myself in one of the back rooms of The Hideaway, making sure that my borrowed guitar was in tune. When we arrived, I had escorted Negan to a small table tucked into a corner where he would still be able to see me onstage. Before leaving, I got him a beer to keep him happy for the time being and commanded for him to stay put. Sitting here now, I couldn't help but think about Negan's demeanor tonight. He was in an environment far different from his own, but seemed excited at the newness of everything. Even more so, he was intrigued by seeing a part of me that was foreign to him. The notion both excited and terrified me. I knew that when I stepped on that stage and began to sing, I would essentially bare a part of my soul to him, let down that wall that I'd worked so hard to build. But maybe, just maybe, a part of his wall built up by his facade and status as the alpha would begin to crumble.

But what then, the voice in my head asked, and I felt the clouds begin to roll in once again, dark and heavy, followed by a string of thoughts that felt as if they would drown me. My heart rate increased and my breathing became shallow as I attempted to focus on myself. But when I tried to think of me, my mind immediately went to Negan. Negan grinning widely as we ate dinner and I enjoyed his food. The heat of Negan's body and scent engulfing me on the couch. The way Negan devoured my body constantly, especially showing his appreciation for my jacket so similar to his. The presence of Negan in my mind ultimately helped me center myself, and once again, the clouds began to clear.

A knock on the door brought me out of my thoughts. "Carson, we're on in five," Nick said.

"I'm coming," I replied, standing and swinging the guitar strap over my shoulder, letting the instrument fall behind me. As I moved to leave the room, I caught my reflection in a mirror, taking in my appearance one last time before I stepped on the stage. You can do this, I silently told my reflection.

I left the room and walked down the hallway towards the stage, finding my accompanying band already there waiting for me. I took my place in the middle of them, adjusting the microphone stand to below my height, and pulled my guitar to my front and plugged it into an amp. The house lights shined below the closed curtains, the murmur of the crowd making me smile. For the first time in a long time, I was beginning to feel like me again.

"You going to be on guitar all night?" Nick, the bassist and my caller asked me. He was tall and lanky, with shaggy blond hair, green eyes, and various tattoos scattered on his arms. We had been playing together for years, a comfortable friendship forming between us. I thought for a moment before answering.

"I'll play for the first few, but then I'll give it a break if that's okay."

He nodded. "Sounds good. We'll be fine with one guitarist. And I did pull up an old set list of yours if you wanna go with that." He moved to grab a list of songs that we could perform. The list included some of my personal favorite alternative bands and their songs.

But there was still something missing.

"It's good, but I want to add something new at the end," I said, pulling my phone out of my back pocket and quickly typing in the artist and song I had in mind given my personal request.

Nick nodded and quickly scrolled through the chords. "We've actually played this before, so you're good. You want to make it the last one?"

I smiled and nodded. "It'll be a little out of place if we do it in the middle of the set. Besides…I want to leave a lasting impression on someone."

Nick returned the smile and nodded before returning to his place at my side. The house lights dimmed, getting the crowd's attention, followed by their clapping and cheering. I took a breath as the curtains opened completely. The stage lights rose, illuminating myself and the band. As the lights hit us, the crowd cheered a bit harder—I had been well known here and my surprise return to the stage was a big deal to the local scene. Now it was time for me to be who I really was.

When the crowd's cheering began to lessen, I spoke. "How is everyone doing tonight?" I asked, my voice echoing through the small space and oozing with confidence. My question was followed by more cheers. I looked around the crowd and my eyes found Negan's on their own accord. Although the light in the space was dim, I could see him perfectly. His charismatic smirk was present and his eyes were on me, and for a second, I allowed myself to gage his reaction. Intrigued, surprised, expectant. And then I realized he was right.

This was going to be real fun.


	25. Chapter 25

"Paralyzer" by Finger Eleven would be our first song. I silently counted us off, making eye contact with Nick to let him know to follow my lead. He looked back to the drummer, the person who would start the dog and gave him the silent command to start. So he did. And when the beat started, I let go, playing the guitar in the same way my brother had told me to years ago: passionately with purpose. When the intro began to fade into the first verse, I knew I was home.

 _I hold on so nervously_

 _To me and my drink_

 _I wish it was cooling me_

 _But so far has not been good_

 _It's been shitty_

 _And I feel awkward as I should_

My fingers moved effortlessly around the neck of my guitar. I didn't have to think too hard about playing, it came naturally.

 _This club has got to be_

 _The most pretentious thing_

 _Since I thought you and me_

My eyes drifted across the crowd, not falling on anyone in particular until they reached Negan. I could see the sense of awe in his eyes at my performance.

 _Well, I am imagining_

 _A dark lit place_

 _Or your place or my place_

 _Well, I'm not paralyzed_

 _But, I seem to be struck by you_

 _I wanna make you move_

 _Because you're standing still_

 _If your body matches_

 _What your eyes can do_

 _You'll probably move right through_

 _Me on my way to you_

 _I hold out for one more drink_

 _Before I think_

 _I'm looking too desperately_

 _But so far has not been fun_

 _I should just stay home_

 _If one thing really means one_

 _This club will hopefully_

 _Be closed in three weeks_

 _That would be cool with me_

 _Well, I'm still imagining_

 _A dark lit place_

 _Or your place or my place…_

As the chorus and instrumental break passed, I found Negan again and gave him a trademark smirk of my own, deciding in the moment to maintain eye contact as I sang.

 _Well, I'm not paralyzed_

 _But, I seem to be struck by you_

 _I wanna make you move_

 _Because you're standing still_

 _If your body matches_

 _What your eyes can do_

 _You'll probably move right through_

 _Me on my way to you_

 _Well, I'm not paralyzed_

 _But, I seem to be struck by you_

 _I wanna make you move_

 _Because you're standing still_

 _If your body matches_

 _What your eyes can do_

 _You'll probably move right through_

 _Me on my way to you_

 _You'll probably move right through_

 _Me on my way to you_

 _You'll probably move right through_

 _Me on my way to you_

I could feel the roar of the crowd igniting my soul, but tonight it was burning a little brighter for someone else.

We continued on, playing songs I had loved for years, songs that made me feel alive. The crowd was having a good time, dancing cheering for us, but I was completely focused on one person. Negan's expressions and wolf whistles spurred me on, encouraging me to not only sing, but to have fun with it. And I was. As the songs changed, I found myself maintaining consistent eye contact with him, giving him sensual smirks that were reserved only for him. I was flirting in the way I knew best, to the beat of the music and using my voice and body as instruments to lure Negan in. And it was affecting him and me as well. The stage lights were mediocre compared to Negan's smoldering gaze.

It was all coming to an end, my return to the stage. But there was still one more song to go.


	26. Chapter 26

I left my spot from behind the mic, pulling off my guitar and passing it to one of the stage hands. It was time for me to address the crowd again. The waited expectantly for me to sign off as their cheering began to waiver. When I returned to the mic, I began to speak.

"We're about to head out, but we've got one more song for you guys tonight," I gripped the microphone stand firmly. "This one, is a personal request. You know who you are," I smirked, looking up at Negan, him returning my gaze with a thousand watt smile.

The drums and bass of Lana Del Rey's "West Coast" began to roll in and I swayed my hips to the music as I began to sing.

 _Down on the West Coast they got a sayin'_

 _"If you're not drinkin' then you're not playin'."_

 _But you've got the music, you've got the music in you, don't you?_

 _Down on the West Coast I get this feeling_

 _Like it all could happen that's why I'm leaving_

 _You for the moment, you for the moment, Boy Blue, yeah, you_

 _Your flyin' high at the show, I'm feeling hot to the touch_

 _You say you'll miss me the most, I say I'll miss you so much_

 _But something keeps me really quiet, I'm alive, I'm a lush_

 _Your love, your love, our love_

By now, the music was flooding my senses, my hips continuing to sway in a seductive way. I continued to dance, waving my hands in the air and playing with my hair for no reason other than it felt right. My eyes scanned the audience and found Negan. He was sitting forward in his spot, eyes completely focused on me. His grin was still there, but lurking beneath the surface of it was something else. Negan was turned on and he knew that I knew it. So I continued, the gentle roll of my hips and torso pulling him in further to the depths of my soul. Now, I put everything I had into singing the song. It was for him after all.

 _I can see my baby swingin'_

 _His Parliament's on fire and his hands are up_

 _On the balcony and I'm singing_

 _Ooh, baby, ooh, baby, I'm in love_

 _I can see my sweet boy swayin'_

 _He's crazy y Cubano como yo, my love_

 _On the balcony and I'm saying_

 _Move baby, move baby, I'm in love_

 _I'm in love_

 _I'm in love_

 _Down on the West Coast, they got their icons_

 _Their silver starlets, their Queens of Saigons_

 _And you've got the music, you've got the music in you, don't you?_

 _Down on the West Coast, they love their movies_

 _Their golden gods, and rock and roll groupies_

 _And you've got the music, you've got the music in you, don't you?_

 _You push it hard, I pull away, I'm feeling hotter than fire_

 _I guess that no one ever really made me feel that much higher_

 _Te deseo, cariño, boy, it's you I desire_

 _Your love, your love, our love_

 _I can see my baby swingin'_

 _His Parliament's on fire and his hands are up_

 _On the balcony and I'm singing_

 _Ooh, baby, ooh, baby, I'm in love_

 _I can see my sweet boy swayin'_

 _He's crazy y Cubano como yo, my love_

 _On the balcony and I'm saying_

 _Move baby, move baby, I'm in love_

 _I can see my baby swingin'_

 _His Parliament's on fire and his hands are up_

 _On the balcony and I'm singing_

 _Ooh, baby, ooh, baby, I'm in love_

 _I can see my sweet boy swayin'_

 _He's crazy y Cubano como yo, my love_

 _On the balcony and I'm saying_

 _Move baby, move baby, I'm in love_

 _I'm in love_

 _I'm in love_

My voice rang out through the speakers, the song having reached its end. The crowd cheered one final time, but I didn't seem to care. My eyes were on Negan and his were transfixed on me, almost predatory. I returned the gaze with an equal force, every fiber of my being honing in on him. My breath came out in shallow pants and I felt a familiar tightening in my abdomen, a reaction that only Negan was capable of eliciting in me. The curtains closed, effectively ending our eye contact and I closed my eyes, taking an unsteady breath. In that moment, I was on fire for him, and I honestly wouldn't have objected turning to ash under his smoldering gaze.

"Holy shit, Carson! That was amazing," Nick said, pulling me out of my Negan induced trance. I opened my eyes and conjured up a friendly smile.

"You guys were amazing," I corrected.

He shook his head. "Nope! That was all you. And whoever that guy is that you dedicated that last song to is a lucky guy."

I chuckled, but didn't respond, lost in my thoughts. As we began to pack up our equipment, I found myself nervous at the thought of coming face to face with Negan again, especially after my semi seductive performance.

A few minutes later, I found myself walking through the hallway back to the main part of the club. I turned the corner and didn't have to search hard for Negan, seeing as he towered over everyone in the room. The way he was looking at me, the admiration and lust pooling in his eyes, caused all my anxiety to disappear. I found myself walking quicker than normal, wanting to claim my place at his side. He let me come to him, the same grin present on his face illuminating his dimples. His expression spurred me on and my wolf briefly surfaced, her desires and mine one in the same. I knew what we both needed, no matter how small the gesture was. So instead of overthinking, I did want felt right.

"Hot diggity dog," Negan drawled. "Carson, that was mag-"

My sudden action left him at a loss of words. For at the moment I was close enough, I hugged him. No, I embraced him. My arms found their way around his waist and I pulled him close so I was flush against his chest, his leather jacket cool on my overheated skin. His heat radiated through my body, his scent encircling me. I embraced Negan, the man who made me feel something I had never experienced before.

And he embraced me too.

The rest of the world faded, the murmur of the venue fading into the background as Negan's long and muscular arms found their way around my small frame, holding me tight. He rested his chin on the top of my head, murmuring something about if I was okay. And in that moment, I was.

Because I was with him.


End file.
